Grass Roots
by the ramblin rose
Summary: The second part to Sweet Junction. This is an AU story about a small town and the people who live their lives there. You need to have read Sweet Junction to follow along. OCs and cast characters are included. Carol, Daryl, Merle, Andrea, Michonne, Tyreese, Sasha, Axel, Hershel and many more to be featured. Rated M for language, violence, sexual content.
1. Introduction and Author's Note

**I don't usually do this, but I thought that this story needs a type of Introduction. It's not so much an introduction to the story as an introduction of what to expect from the story since it's a little different than anything I've done before.**

**It needs to be said that this is the Part 2 to Sweet Junction. If you haven't read Sweet Junction, then you'll probably want to stop reading this now and take a trip to Sweet Junction before you continue. **

**I will be completing Sweet Junction before long, and then I'll be moving here to continue with the second part. I wanted to give everyone a chance, though, to start thinking about things they might be interested in seeing in this second part of the story. All of this will be explained below. **

**After you've read Sweet Junction, welcome, and I'm glad you decided to join me as I continue with this saga. **

**The sequel will be a story, but it will be a rather slow moving story as far as stories typically go. It will be almost like a collection of one shots or, as I prefer to call it (and as Dixonrocks, I think) called it, episodes. **

**The story takes place in the small Georgia town of Sweet Junction. It explores the lives and experiences of the people that live in the tiny town stuck somewhere off of a quiet highway in the middle of nowhere. The main couple that I focus on is Caryl (Carol and Daryl) and I also strongly focus on Mandrea (Merle/Andrea). With the sequel, I'm opening the door to have episodes dedicated to other people in the town as well. **

**That's where you, dear readers, come in. **

**I'd like to do the story as somewhat of a request/prompt story. So many people asked for things that they wanted to see and wanted more focus here and there with Sweet Junction. I'm opening the door to those possibilities. **

**As you read, if there's something you would like to see, then please PM me a request for it. It can be some kind of thought out episode topic, or it can be just a little something here or there. **

**Please note, however, that I will not be able to work everyone's requests in. The story is still a story, and that means that I will be working behind the scenes to make all the little pieces actually fit. If something you requests fits with the story or can be worked in, then I'm going to put it in there. If, however, your request doesn't show up for some time (because maybe I'm working it in later), or it shows up a little altered (because it fit better some other way), or even if it just doesn't make it in (because it's not something I felt I could write or that I felt would really work with the story), it doesn't mean that it was a bad idea or that I didn't care for it. It simply means that for one reason or another, it just wasn't right.**

**I'll read, consider, and record all requests that I get, though, and I will do my best to honor most of them. **

**I know that people are fond of "song" requests, and I understand that music moves us to certain feelings and makes us see things in a certain way. If you have a certain song that inspires you in regards to someone in Sweet Junction, by all means, suggest it. That being said, however, I'll be writing no "song" chapters (in that I'm going to be doing those chapters that people write with lyrics and such in them). They're not allowed on the site and there's a chance that I might not feel the way that you felt when I hear a song, after all, our experiences and our taste in music change how we hear things. **

**For the most part, this story is going to be my story, and it's going to follow in the same grain as Sweet Junction. I did, however, want to open the door for anyone who had something they wanted to suggest or something that they'd really like to see. If you've got something that you'd like me to consider for somewhere down the line, drop me a PM and I'll see when and where I can work it in. **

**I hope that you all will join me here when Sweet Junction is finished and marked complete, so that we can continue our story. I'll be posting the first chapter of this hopefully before too long, I simply wanted to get the introduction/premise out there for you so that you could start thinking of anything you'd like to send me to consider. **

**I welcome you all back to Sweet Junction! It's nice to have you there! As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the story to come! **

**It should also be stated, as a general disclaimer, that I do not own the Walking Dead or its characters. This story is completely and totally AU. I own Sweet Junction and I own what I do with the characters there, but I own nothing from the Walking Dead and I make no money off this story. **

**The only payment I receive are the reviews and comments of my readers, which I greatly value and enjoy. **

**The cover artwork is an image from Google. I don't own that either. I really own very little besides a cat, a few things of little to no value, and a deep love for writing and for the Walking Dead.**

**This is solely for entertainment purposes. **


	2. Chapter 1: Bringing Home Baby

**AN: Hi everyone…busy day here. I'm going on vacation so I will be updating stories sporadically for a bit but I needed something simple and light tonight and I wanted to start up on this one so I can get things moving with it, however slowly because of vacation. **

**So let's get going, shall we? It always takes me a bit to really get into the story and into the rhythm of things, but here's the first chapter that I have to offer for this one. I want to thank you all for your support of Sweet Junction and for this little story as well. I hope as we go on this little journey together it doesn't disappoint. We've got a lot of ground to cover! **

**As always, I thank you for your reviews and your comments. We don't make any money off of fanfic, so that's all the payment we get and it's what makes it worth it! **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think! **

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Daryl had never been as aware of how uneven his gait was until he was trying to carry the carrier with his sleeping daughter in it all the way from the car to the house. It was the longest trip of his life and he was thankful that Carol, who had gone ahead to hold the door for him, wasn't impatient with his dreadfully slow progress…if it could really even be called progress.

Daryl made it in the house, though, and he sat the carrier on the bar, not knowing where else to put it at the moment.

And he and Carol looked at each other, somewhat awkwardly. Eliza Jo was asleep in her carrier, but now came the question of what was supposed to happen next.

Carol moved to start unfastening the straps.

"What'cha doin'?" Daryl asked.

"I'm getting her out of the carrier," Carol said. She furrowed her brows at Daryl. "You don't want to just leave her there on top of the counter all night, do you?"

"She's sleepin'…" Daryl said.

Carol looked at him, looking a little uncomfortable, finally matching the way that Daryl felt.

"You don't think we should get her out? It can't be comfortable," Carol said.

"But if she's sleepin'…she might not go back ta sleep," Daryl said.

The baby was already an enigma to him. He hated hearing her cry. It was a terrible sound, and it was mostly terrible owing to the fact that he felt like a failure because he had no idea what to do make it stop. When she was sleeping, Eliza Jo was quiet and cute and undeniably happy.

"She's got to eat soon," Carol said, glancing at the clock. "I'm going to have to take her out to feed her. They said every two hours and I know it's been longer than that."

Daryl snickered.

"So what? We wake her ass up ta feed her?" Daryl asked.

Carol frowned at him.

"I want to hold her," Carol said. "Sleeping or not…I'm not leaving her on the kitchen counter."

Carol started unfastening the clasps on the seat and getting the baby out of the thing…something she was much more comfortable with than Daryl was. He still didn't feel really confident about the whole "moving her to another location" deal. He was good at holding her, but he preferred to have someone help him get started and stopped at that.

Daryl held his breath as Carol got the baby out, moving her against her chest, but if Eliza Jo woke up, she didn't make much of a show of it.

Carol smiled at him, looking very satisfied with herself, and went to the living room, easing down on the couch.

Daryl went in search of the phone. Michonne had told him he could call if he had any questions, and he certainly had plenty of those and thought of more by the minute.

When he found the phone, he glanced over toward where Carol was settled, holding the baby and examining her like they'd both done at least twenty times in the forty eight hours or so that the baby had been in the world.

"What?" Michonne answered the phone.

"Nice ta talk ta ya too," Daryl said. "How the hell ya know it weren't someone callin' ta give ya a million dollars or some shit an' ya answer the phone like that?"

Michonne chuckled.

"Because I have caller ID and I know you're not calling to give me anything…is something wrong?" Michonne asked.

Daryl nipped at his finger. No…there was nothing wrong.

"We made it home," he said. "An' Carol's got her outta her seat…but she's sleepin'…"

Michonne chuckled.

"That's good…let sleeping babies lie," Michonne said.

"Yeah, but she's gotta eat," Daryl said. "They said two hours an' it's been longer than that…so do we wake her up?"

Michonne chuckled again and Daryl could hear noise in the background. She was doing something while she talked to him. He didn't have her undivided attention…but then again she had two kids, so she rarely gave anything her undivided attention when the girls were around.

"That's not something to set your watch by," Michonne said. "She'll let you know when she's hungry…believe me. If she goes a really long time without eating or she doesn't seem to want to eat, then you worry. If she's just enjoying her nap out for another half hour, then let her have it. You'll be happy later that you did."

Michonne paused a moment and Daryl checked on Carol, but she seemed to be just fine, nuzzling the baby and not paying anything else in the world any attention.

"And Daryl…" Michonne said.

"Yeah?" He asked, his attention being snatched back.

"You and Carol need to try to sleep some too…when Eliza's sleeping…because she doesn't go down at night like you do," Michonne said.

"Yeah…" Daryl said. That much he knew already. She was a 'round the clock baby. They'd kept her with them over night in the hospital, even though they'd had the option of sending her to the nursery with the other babies except for when Carol was supposed to be feeding her.

The thought brought up another question in Daryl's mind and he was glad he still had Michonne on the phone, even though he was positive now that she was either cooking or chopping up bodies.

"Got another question for ya," Daryl said, picking up the seat and looking around for where might be the proper place to put it. He finally started back toward the nursery, feeling like they might just keep everything that belonged to Eliza Jo…which was admittedly almost the majority of what they had…in one place.

"Shoot," Michonne said, crunching something in his ear.

"We s'posed ta hold her all the time or not? 'Cause they told us we could put her down at the hospital…but I don't think we put her down none 'cept when we was in the car…" Daryl said.

He worried that maybe they'd make her sore or something.

"Mmmm…" Michonne hummed. "Depends on the baby…some like to be held more than others. Just like people liking to be touched or not liking it. She'll let you know if she doesn't want you to hold her."

"So now that we home," Daryl started…already figuring that they were going to owe Michonne some kind of special gift or something for all the times he figured he was going to be calling her just because he was suddenly feeling very much like he didn't have one single clue what they were doing. "They someethin' I should be doin' for Carol? She's in there with the baby an' I kinda feel like I don't even know what the hell I'm doin'…"

Daryl was standing in the nursery and he felt like he should be doing something…he felt like he'd be much more settled if he had some sort of purpose, but he really didn't know what to do.

Michonne chuckled.

"Here's what you do," she said, "you need to move that white bassinet from the nursery into your bedroom…and put it by Carol's side of the bed."

"Bassinet?" Daryl asked.

"Portable baby bed," Michonne said.

Daryl identified the object in question.

"OK…" he said.

"Then you need to put the pack and play together that's in the box in Andrea's old room," Michonne said.

Daryl exited the nursery and went to Andrea's old room, finding the box in question. He figured he could put that together without too much effort.

"You got the pack and play?" Michonne asked.

"Yeah…" Daryl said. "I can put that together…"

"Good," Michonne responded. "Put that in the living room or wherever Carol is with the baby…so when she wants to put her down, it's right there."

Daryl nodded at the phone.

"OK," he said.

"Has Lincoln met Eliza?" Michonne asked.

"No," Daryl responded. "He's with Andrea an' Merle…he spent the night over there."

"That's fine," Michonne said. "When they bring him over, give him the chance to meet her…Lincoln loves babies, so he should be fine, but kind of watch him and let him smell her…"

"OK," Daryl responded.

He was making a mental checklist in his mind and on this list he was also adding the fact that he intended to kiss Michonne the next time he saw her. He wouldn't have thought of doing any of this shit…but now he had somewhere to start at least.

"Have you eaten?" Michonne asked.

"Not since this mornin'…" Daryl said.

Once she pointed out that they hadn't eaten, his stomach rumbled. Of course his brain would forget about food until it was suggested to him by an outside person.

"Get food…" Michonne said. "Make it or order it or whatever…Carol needs to eat and she's not going to feel like cooking for a couple of days. She had a baby, she deserves a vacation."

Daryl chuckled.

"Yeah…OK…I kinda figured that much," Daryl said.

He thought she might deserve more than a vacation after everything surrounding Eliza Jo's birth, but he could at least order something for them to eat so that she didn't have to feel like she needed to cook or do dishes or anything like that.

"Anythin' else?" Daryl asked.

"Are you stocked up on diapers and wipes?" Michonne asked.

Daryl knew that she knew they were. She'd been the one that had brought a box of both over that was still unopened in the middle of the nursery floor because they hadn't known what to do with the boxes that were damn near the size of shipping crates.

"We're good," Daryl said. He didn't know how many diapers Eliza Jo was going to go through on a daily basis, but he'd be more than impressed…and a little terrified…if she went through that many any time soon.

"Good," Michonne said. "Then Daryl…do that…get everything set up…and then go enjoy your baby. And don't worry about holding her too much or feeding her too much, or changing her too often. She's going to tell you what she needs and both of you are going to have a lot more parental instinct than you're giving yourself credit for at the moment. It just has to kick in."

Daryl nodded at the phone again and sighed.

He didn't know if they were going to have parental instinct, as she called it, or not…he just wanted to do everything right. He knew that Carol wanted the same thing. This was the biggest thing that either of them had ever had to do in their lives and it was the most important thing to both of them. They didn't want to run the risk of doing something wrong and messing up Eliza Jo's life before it even got going good.

They didn't want to be bad parents.

"Thanks…'Chonne…" Daryl said.

He could hear the sound of running water from the other side of the phone, and silence for a moment.

"You're welcome, Daryl," Michonne said. "Call me if you need anything…I'll come by tomorrow…and Daryl?"

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Congratulations," Michonne said. "And tell Carol I said congratulations again too."

Daryl chuckled.

"I will…gonna go put this thing together now," Daryl said.

"Good luck," Michonne said.

Daryl hung up the phone and from the living room he could hear Eliza Jo begin to howl. He passed back through the house, putting the phone on the table so they could find it later when they'd very well probably need it, and he walked over to the couch where Carol was working to get the baby hooked on her breast.

"She OK?" Daryl asked.

"I think she's just hungry," Carol said.

Daryl could see her getting frustrated. He'd figured that feeding the baby would be simple enough…here's a boob, go to town…but Eliza Jo wasn't catching onto the fact that quickly and each time Carol had fed her it took some effort on her part to get Eliza Jo just like the baby obviously wanted to be before she would accept that she was being offered what she was asking for and finally commit to her meal.

Carol finally won the battle, though, while Daryl stood over her and watched, and then she smiled at him, looking no less satisfied than she had when she got the baby out of the seat without her crying.

Daryl smiled back at her and leaned down and she met him with a kiss.

"Doin' damn good there, woman," Daryl said.

Carol chuckled.

"And what are you doing?" She asked.

"Got me a list," Daryl said. "Gotta move some shit an' I'ma put'cha together a…"

Daryl paused. He couldn't remember what the thing in the box was called.

"I'ma put'cha together some a' that shit 'Chonne bought for ya so ya can put 'Liza Jo in there if ya wanna put her down some," Daryl said. "I'ma bring it in here ta put it together an' then I'ma order supper, so ya best start thinkin' what'cha want."

Carol nodded at him and Daryl went back to Andrea's old room, wrestling up the box and lugging it back into the living room.

He ordered Chinese food, per Carol's request, and then settled down in the floor to assemble the contraption while Carol entertained the baby, who took a lot longer to eat than most people that Daryl knew.

"'Chonne said she's comin' over tomorrow," Daryl said, working at the thing that he'd now realized was something of a baby cage or something of the like. "Said congratulations again."

Carol chuckled.

"We can't call her every hour, you know?" Carol said.

"Ain't called her but once," Daryl said.

"When are Andrea and Merle bringing Linc back?" Carol asked.

Daryl shrugged.

"Truck weren't in the driveway so I figure they off runnin' 'round somewhere," Daryl said. "They'll bring him back when they get home, I reckon. We gotta introduce him ta 'Liza Jo an' make sure he don't try ta bite her."

"I don't think Lincoln would bite her," Carol said, looking at the baby and rubbing at her face while she fed her.

"Prob'ly not," Daryl agreed. "She can't even pull his ears or try ta ride him like Angie does…but we still goin' slow about it."

"I can't believe she's finally here…" Carol said. "And home…"

Daryl smiled to himself. They hadn't had her all that long, but he was pretty sure she was perfect. There had been another baby that had been born a couple of hours after she had and Daryl had gone down to look at it through the windows in the nursery, but it was a boy and it wasn't nearly as cute as Eliza Jo was. Daryl wouldn't have told the man that was eyeing it through the window…and he assumed was its Daddy…that his kid looked like a potato, but he'd almost been tempted to go and bring Eliza Jo down there just long enough to show him what he was missing out on.

"She's somethin' alright," Daryl said. "I'm glad ta finally have her home…just hope we know what the hell we doin'. 'Chonne said our instincts are gonna kick in though an' we just gonna know what ta do."

Daryl looked up a moment when the baby started to cry again, but he realized that Carol was just trying to get her to suck on the other breast, like they'd told her to make her do in the hospital. Eliza Jo didn't care for the intervals between breasts one bit.

Once she quieted, though, and resumed her dining, Carol offered some of her attention once more to Daryl.

"I think they'll kick in," Carol said. "I think we'll figure it out. You're going to be a good Daddy…"

Daryl smiled and winked at Carol. She'd taken to telling him that almost every time he even looked at the baby.

"An' looks like you done got'cha shit figured out too…" Daryl said. "Didn't take ya near as long ta get her ta eat as it did this mornin'."

Carol chuckled.

"We'll figure it out…and we've got a lot of help to count on too," she said.

Daryl nodded and hummed his agreement, glancing toward the clock and figuring that dinner should arrive anywhere in the next fifteen minutes…probably followed shortly by Merle and Andrea.

The next day Michonne would come by, like she'd said…and Hershel and Miss Jo had already said they were coming when she got home from the hospital because they hadn't seen her yet but wanted to give Carol and Daryl time to get settled in with her…so Daryl figured their house was likely to be quite popular for at least a little while.

And he'd be thankful for all the help they could get until they did get this thing figured out.

"Thank goodness for all the help we can get," Daryl said. "I'll take anything they want ta offer…long as it means 'Liza Jo's just as happy as she can get."


	3. Chapter 2: Rat Dogs and Rose Petals

**AN: So I decided to drop this one off. **

**This is a Mandrea chapter (the first of many since this story has a different set up/format than Sweet Junction). It's a short one to check you into where Mandrea is right now. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Merle hated baths and had always considered them something that grown men didn't do. Baths ended when you were big enough to stand up in the damn shower and had the good common sense not to sit and stew in your own filth.

So he hadn't really understood why Andrea was so damn excited that their house had some big ass tub in the bathroom…some tub he figured was just about the right size for drowning people that pissed you off…but he'd left her alone about it. If she wanted to stew in her own filth, that was her damn business.

Except then she'd begun to harass him about the tub. She'd insisted the damn thing was not only big enough for him, but it was big enough for both of them…

And she'd gotten his ass over a barrel when she'd insisted that they could soak in the thing together and it might…just might…loosen her up from her gunshot wound enough that she might consider letting him have sex with her.

So like any red blooded man, Merle had decided his pride could take a hit for the good of his dick and he'd given in the first time, sucking his teeth at her prissy smelling soap and the candles that he figured were likely to topple right on in and burn the fuck out of one of them before sizzling out in the bathwater.

And now he'd rather cut his own damn tongue out of his head than let even his brother know that he kind of liked the soaps…and the hot water…and the soaking with Andrea. He didn't even let Andrea know that he was about as damn excited about things when he saw her filling up that tub as she was.

And right now he was already soaking in it, waiting on Andrea to come in.

When she came in the bathroom, wrapped in the soft pink bathrobe that she wore around the house when she didn't feel like putting clothes on, her hair piled up on her head, he smiled at her and groaned.

"Come on in here, sugah…" Merle growled.

Andrea smiled at him and shucked off the robe, letting it fall to the floor where he'd left his clothes in a pile.

Andrea eased over the side of the tub and Merle put his hands up, catching her hips to steady her until she eased down, sitting on top of him and leaning gently back against him.

The gunshot wound inflicted upon her by the worthless son of a bitch that Merle hoped was suffering now and every day for the rest of his life, had taken months to heal, and it was still nowhere near being done.

The wound itself was healed, from the outside, but it seemed like Andrea had a long road of physical therapy ahead of her, and she didn't have the use of her left arm all that much...being forced to limit it outside of therapy. They'd said she'd have a full recovery, and for that Merle was thankful, but they were supposed to be patient.

Merle wrapped his arms around Andrea's waist while she leaned back against him in the water. He kissed her shoulder and neck and she moaned, leaning into him more.

She'd been reluctant, at first, to let him see the wounds…which were going to leave hellacious scars without a doubt…but he'd finally talked her into it, convincing her that she didn't give a damn about the marks he wore from his experiences with his Daddy and he didn't give a damn about her scars.

If anything, they were a reminder.

They were a reminder to Merle that his own damn pride had almost cost him, on more than one occasion, the best thing he had and never realized he had. And they reminded him that the woman that had somehow decided to give herself to him was the kind of woman who would, without a doubt, lay down her life for the people she cared about…and the only damn thing she wanted in return was to know that they gave a damn about her…that she meant something to them.

Merle couldn't tell her…his mouth wasn't even capable of saying the words…how damn much she meant to him.

But Merle wasn't a man for show. He didn't do all the shit that his brother did for Carol when it came to Andrea. He wasn't able to say the things that Daryl was able to wrap his mouth around. He just wasn't built the same way his brother was.

At least now, though, he knew he could feel those things, even if he couldn't say them…and somehow, Andrea seemed to understand them even without them coming out of his mouth.

Merle's life was different than Daryl's. They were brothers…and maybe in some ways they were alike…but they were quite different as well.

Right now his brother was home, next door, with his wife and a brand new baby that was pink and so small that Merle felt like he'd damn near break her just by looking at her.

But Merle was soaking in a tub with his wife, under the strict policy that neither of them would ever mention it outside the privacy of their house, and hoping that she felt up to a little loving afterwards…no matter how damn careful he had to be.

"Ya reckon Carol an' Daryl 'bout ready ta trade that young'un in yet?" Merle asked, washing Andrea with his hands.

"Mmm…they haven't had her home but for a few hours," Andrea responded. "You don't give them more credit than that?"

Merle chuckled.

They'd gone over to return the hound dog and sit, but during the time that they'd been there they'd been through howling over a dirty diaper, howling over titties, and howling just for howling's sake as far as Merle could tell. And Daryl already looked like his head might explode.

"Reckon it's a lil' more trouble than they thought it'd be," Merle said. "Sure is a noisy damn thing."

Andrea moaned when Merle cupped her breasts in his hand while he was passing them over her, lazily washing her when he knew she probably wasn't really dirty in the first place. He snickered at the moan because it meant…if he was lucky…the bath wasn't as far as this shit was going.

"Babies are noisy and they're a lot of trouble," Andrea said. "But they want like two hundred of them so they might as well get used to it."

"Ya still set on the fact ya don't want none?" Merle asked.

Merle had never thought that he wanted children. He hadn't been around too many of them, though lately he'd been around Michonne's kids whenever they were around, and he figured they were a hassle. Of course, he'd also never thought he wanted to be married…and he wasn't hating that shit. It almost made him want to kick his own ass that Daryl having a kid has his curiosity piqued, especially when Andrea was just a little below hell bent against it.

"Mmmm hmmm," Andrea moaned.

They'd talked about it in all sincerity the night before…after they'd gotten home from seeing the thing now that it was out and in the world.

"If we had a baby," Andrea said, "we couldn't do this anymore…"

Merle chuckled.

"Can't take no damn bath when ya got a kid?" He asked.

"Not like this," Andrea said. "And sex? Gone…"

"Now ya just fuckin' lyin'," Merle said. "If ya don't have sex no more ya wouldn't never see no damn body with more'n one kid."

Andrea laughed, shaking against Merle.

"OK…maybe a little sex…but not a lot…and not good…boring parent sex," Andrea said.

Now it was Merle's turn to laugh and when he'd recovered from it, he kissed Andrea's shoulder again.

"You know what I do want, though?" Andrea asked.

"Ta win the fuckin' lottery?" Merle asked.

"Mmm…that…" Andrea responded. "And I want a dog…"

Merle leaned all the way back in the tub, against the towel that Andrea had balled up there for him so he didn't crane his neck, and he tugged her gently back against him.

"Got a damn rat…what the hell else ya want?" Merle asked.

"Juny isn't our dog," Andrea said. "And Michonne says Axel's getting out before too long…I want a dog that's ours. One like Juny."

Merle sighed.

"Ain't no kinda man's dog," Merle growled. "Fuckin' rat…get'cha damn hamster if ya want that shit…put it in a cage not in the damn bed…"

Andrea chuckled.

"Merle…I want a little dog," Andrea said. "Men can have little dogs…unless they're uncomfortable with their masculinity…"

Merle growled and pushed Andrea up gently as he sat up. He leaned enough to bite her ear and held it a moment between his teeth until she craned her neck slightly as a way of requesting his release.

"Ain't fuckin' uncomfortable with my masculinity," Merle growled. "But hell…ya 'bout ta make me that fuckin' way. Can't get no decent fuckin' goin' on…an' now ya want a damn rat dog…"

Merle didn't expect Andrea to pull away from him, but she started to pull herself out the tub. He could see her face well enough to know that she was pissed off or bothered about something and he normally wouldn't have helped her get away, but he figured she might hurt herself if he didn't help her so he helped push her up, steadying her while she got out the tub.

She yanked the towel off the towel rod and started drying off.

"What'cha fuckin' pissed about?" Merle asked, starting to get out the tub. "'Cause I was makin' fun a' ya damn dog ya don't got…hell…I'll get'cha fuckin' rat…I don't give a damn."

Andrea looked at him and frowned.

"Maybe you ought to get yourself a decent fuck while you're out," Andrea said.

Merle growled to himself, realizing he'd slipped and been an asshole without even meaning to be one this time.

He reached out his hand and caught her arm.

"Don't pull my arm," Andrea said.

Merle dropped it.

"Fuck it, Andrea," Merle said. "I weren't tryin' ta be an asshole…hell…I was just messin' with ya. I know ya got a lotta damn shit goin' on right now an' ya ain't able ta do the shit'cha used ta do."

Andrea passed him the towel that was damp now, but Merle used it anyway.

"So you don't want some better fuck?" Andrea asked, raising her eyebrow.

"I wanna fuck you is what the hell I wanna do," Merle grumbled, drying off. "An' I ain't even gon' fuckin' lie an' say I ain't holdin' my damn breath for the day ya tell me ya wantin' somethin' 'sides all this rose petals an' shit fuckin'…but I ain't no damn cheater an' I ain't got no interest in tryin' it on for size."

Andrea frowned again but she didn't look as at risk for running away as she had before.

"I'm sorry…" she said. "I'm really sorry that I can't do what you want to do…"

Merle sighed and hung the towel up willy nilly on the rod.

"We do what the hell we can…" he said. "I ain't pissed at'cha."

Andrea leaned against the counter and Merle stepped forward, catching her behind the right shoulder and tugging her toward him. She frowned at him like she wasn't going to come, but he tugged a little more and she sunk against him.

He let his fingers trail lightly over her back, catching his breath when they hit the soft and tender skin of the edge of the large scar, and then he pushed her off of him, turning her around and pushing her gently toward the bedroom.

She went, obviously still sulking, and he pushed her toward the bed.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice heavy with the irritation that meant that she hadn't entirely forgiven him…but she would soon…Andrea's grudges were notoriously short.

Merle chuckled lightly.

"Gettin' me some damn lovin'," Merle said. He turned her around to face him and brushed his knuckles against her cheek, the dim light from the bathroom barely illuminating her face. Merle leaned in, brushing his lips against hers and she deepened the kiss. Merle pulled back enough to catch her lip with his teeth and tug it and when he let go, she smiled at him and then jumped forward a little repeating the action to him.

Merle pushed her gently, not wanting to hurt her, but signaling to her that he intended for her to get into the bed, which she did without question, and he joined her, immediately dipping his head sucking a nipple before biting it.

She moaned and he went to the other breast, giving it the same treatment.

"You sure you want this shit?" Andrea panted. "Won't be much of a show, you know…not a decent fuck to be had in this house…"

Merle growled, lifting his head long enough to come back to her lips.

"Shut the fuck up," he said when he pulled away from her. She smirked at him, raising an eyebrow. He dipped his hand between her legs and she spread them to allow him to stroke her, her eyes never leaving his, even when she growled at him in her throat.

He knew she was just as frustrated as he was that they'd been greatly reduced in what the hell they could do without sending her screeching out in pain…the real kind and not the kind that she asked for and he happily provided…and that was something that neither of them enjoyed.

When Andrea moaned at him again, this time closing her eyes against the work his hand was doing, he brought his lips and teeth back to her breast for a moment before finally moving and settling himself into her, supporting himself on his arms to keep every bit of weight off of her he could.

As he started to move, slowly, Andrea locked eyes with him.

"I know you hate it," she moaned at him, "but you're still pretty damn good at it."

Merle smirked at her and buried his face in her neck, catching the soft skin there between his teeth and then sucking her, knowing well that she'd have a mark to show for her troubles the next day.

"Don't fuckin' hate it," he growled back at her, his breathing starting to pick up as he increased his speed as much as he dared. "But I'ma fuck the shit outta ya one damn day."

Andrea didn't respond. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, moaning at him, and remained that way until they'd both found their release and finally broke apart.

"I'm counting on it," Andrea said, panting as Merle found his place beside her in the bed and worked to steady his own breathing.


	4. Chapter 3: Go To Sleep, Little Baby

**AN: OK…here's another little chapter to keep us progressing along. Everyone's asleep here and I'm on my way out, but I wanted to drop this off. As I said, I'm updating when and where I can…but today I actually made the rounds in different intervals of time. I'm shocked since I squeezed it in around all the family time! LOL**

**I hope you enjoy this little chapter as we move along in our story. As you know…we've got a long way to go. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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It hadn't taken Daryl very long to figure out why Michonne had suggested moving the baby bed thing into the bedroom and by Carol's side of the bed. If Carol had to get out of the bed entirely every time that Eliza Jo wanted something, she'd have never lied down for even a second.

When Eliza Jo, after a very short vacation from wanting something, cried out wanting something else, Daryl sat up and rolled slightly.

Carol groaned and got up, getting the baby out of her little baby bed and bringing her over into the big bed. Daryl reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp beside him.

"You should go to sleep," Carol said, her voice sleep filled and empty of conviction. "I've got her…she wants to eat…again…"

Daryl almost chuckled at Carol's tone of voice and if he hadn't been so tired he might have.

"She just ate…didn't she? Weren't that like ten minutes ago?" Daryl asked.

Carol leaned back against her pillows, the baby finally latched and apparently making it her life decision at the moment to prove Daryl wrong for suggesting she didn't want to eat, and closed her eyes like she might try to sleep while she held the baby.

Daryl frowned at her. He knew that she was tired because he was sincerely doubting that she'd been to sleep at all since before Eliza Jo was born.

"Dirty diaper…" Carol mumbled.

"What?" Daryl asked.

Carol yawned and opened her eyes a crack to look at Daryl.

"Ten minutes ago was a dirty diaper…" Carol said.

Daryl sighed and leaned back on his own pillows. He didn't have to work in the morning…thankfully…because Hershel was declaring the day a holiday for him to come and see Eliza Jo with Miss Jo. That meant Daryl didn't have to work and that was the only reason he wasn't dreaming of dying at the moment.

He had thought, originally, that he'd be a good father and he'd stay up with Carol each and every time that she had to be up with the baby. His plans had him always there…for support if nothing else…but it was the first night home and already he felt like dropping out of the race.

He hadn't really realized how often the little thing was going to be awake. And he knew, now that he could see first-hand what it looked like their lives were going to be like, he wasn't going to be able to be awake with Carol every single time that she was up and still be able to process as anything even akin to a human being at work.

He was tired enough at the moment to want to strangle someone, but when he looked at Carol he knew he couldn't be mad at her because she sincerely looked like she was trying not to die all on her own.

Daryl leaned his head back against the headboard and swam in and out of sleep while Carol fed the baby. When she moved to burp her, finally, it shook him awake and he surprised himself by catching the tail end of a snore that he hadn't even realized he was doing.

"She ready ta sleep now?" Daryl asked.

Carol groaned.

"She's never going to sleep," Carol said. "Our baby doesn't sleep…not at night…"

Daryl almost chuckled at the whine in Carol's voice and leaned over to look at their brand new daughter, curled up in her arms, her eyes wider at the moment than Daryl thought he'd seen them since she was born.

"What the hell's that shit on her hands?" Daryl asked, noticing that the baby was wearing something like mittens that she kept brushing against her face.

After a second of brushing them against her mouth, scrubbing them there almost, the baby began to buck a little and started fussing.

"They're to keep her from scratching herself with her little nails," Carol said.

"She don't like 'em," Daryl said.

Carol growled a little in her throat.

"The baby books said that she could scratch herself and that they'll keep her from scratching herself. Some of her little outfits even came with them built in," Carol said. "She doesn't mind them."

Daryl looked at the baby and shook his head.

"She don't like 'em…" he repeated. "She can't get to her hands…hell…would you wanna sleep in mittens? Damn things is prob'ly hot…"

Carol growled again and Daryl fought the urge to laugh at how annoyed she was, but for every bit as annoyed as she got, Eliza Jo got more annoyed.

Finally, Daryl reached over.

"Gimme 'Liza Jo," he said.

"What are you going to do?" Carol asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled.

"Well I ain't gon' hurt her so don't look at me like that…" Daryl said. "Just give her ta me…ya need ta sleep a few minutes at least, an' I ain't sleepin' so I might as well take a lil' walk 'round the house with her."

Carol looked pleased at the mention of sleeping a moment and quickly settled the baby into Daryl's arms. He had practiced a little during the day with picking her up and putting her down, but he still preferred help if he could get it. He wasn't very comfortable with the "floating baby" feeling of trying to move her from place to place.

Daryl eased out of the bed, Eliza Jo squirming and fussing in the crook of his arm and left the bedroom, whistling for Lincoln to come. The dog gladly bounded down his steps and out the bedroom, choosing a trip to the yard over a noisy baby any day.

Daryl let the dog out and walked through the dining room, switching on the light. The bedroom door was closed, and he imagined Carol was probably already asleep in even that matter of a few seconds.

Daryl plucked the little mitten things off of Eliza Jo's hands and went over to the pack and play thing that he'd put together. He took a moment to admire his handiwork and then he dug one of the pacifiers out of the baby bed part of the darn thing that Eliza Jo had hardly spent any time in at all.

Daryl offered her the pacifier, teasing her a little when she opened her mouth to accept it, and smiling at the fact that she acted like she might get pissed off at him when he pulled it back, before giving it over to her entirely.

"Ya just wanna fight with someone tonight, don't'cha?" Daryl said. He walked around the house, creating a circle through all the rooms. "Just like ya Ma…" Daryl said. "Sometimes she just wants ta fight with someone…don't got no real reason ta wanna do it…just feels like it."

Eliza Jo was still awake, and now she was looking at Daryl as though she were mad at him, her tiny hands folded up on her body, but her fingers flexing every now and again. Daryl smiled at her.

"Ya tearin' up that rubber nipple…" He said, continuing his pacing. "Ya had the real damn things an' I know they gotta be better…I used ta have 'em too…but now I guess they yours for a while. Ya can have all the rubber ones…an' I sprung ya hands from the damn mittens ya Ma got, but I can't promise that she ain't gonna put 'em back on soon as she figures out where I stuck 'em…she don't like her fingers as much as we do. Ya got that from me."

Daryl carried the baby with him while he went into the kitchen and worked one handed to get himself the pitcher of tea out of the refrigerator. He made a glass of tea, returned the pitcher, and then went to lean against the bar and drink the tea while the baby stared at him.

"Ya can't drink this yet…'cause right now ya just drink milk…but when ya get bigger, ya can have some," Daryl said.

He stayed a good little while, sipping down the tea until it was gone and put the glass in the sink. He smiled to himself. He was pretty good at doing things with one hand…better than he'd ever have thought he would be. And Eliza Jo didn't seem to mind being along for the ride. She just stayed there, quiet, and wiggled around every now and again just to settle back down into her spot in the crook of his arms.

Carol said that she looked like him, but Daryl thought she looked more like Carol. She had Carol's eyes. Her eyes were almost shaped entirely like Carol's and she was…at least in Daryl's opinion…already more than capable of making a good number of facial expressions at him with her eyes that immediately looked like the same ones that Carol gave him.

The little bit of soft hair that she had on her head, that he stroked with his fingers to feel how soft it was, was light red…and something else that he knew she'd gotten from Carol. Carol's hair was darker than that now, and there were streaks of grey showing in it here and there that Carol griped about in the mirror sometimes, but Daryl could imagine that when she was small her hair might have been the same color as Eliza Jo's.

And even though their daughter might never sleep when she was supposed to, she was perfect…absolutely perfect.

And now her face didn't look as angry and she had slowed down on the sucking of the pacifier, though every now and again she launched into a quick spurt of sucking that ended as abruptly as it started.

"I know ya was in ya Ma for a long damn time," Daryl said softly, "an' I know it was dark in there an' ya didn't have days an' nights an' things 'cause ya was always kickin' me in the bed when I was tryin' ta sleep an' ya Ma backed her belly right up into me…but out here we gotta sleep at night 'cause we work durin' the day…so ya gonna have ta sleep some at night. I can't be up chattin' with ya an' walkin' ya around so she can sleep."

Eliza Jo didn't seem to see the problem with any of this that Daryl was explaining to her. She didn't seem to care at all…and her lack of expression or care, just made Daryl smile that much more at her.

He continued to walk a bit, focusing on stretching his muscles, thinking about the next day when he'd have to be up when they'd barely slept at all, and sighed, bringing his arm up enough to brush his lips against his daughter's forehead.

"Ya need ya sleep too, ya know? Tomorrow's gonna be a long ass day for ya. Ya gonna meet'cha grandparents…an' they ain't really ya grandparents…but we gonna pretend they are. An' ya Aunt 'Chonne's comin' by with her girls. They're bigger than you…but ya done met her. She come ta see ya in the hospital. An' ya can bet Merle an' Andrea's gonna be over here 'cause they over here every single day…an' especially if everyone else is gonna be over here. They won't be able ta stand it," Daryl said.

He yawned and glanced at the clock, amazed at how late it was…or how early…depending on how you looked at it.

Once upon a time he'd stayed up late like this because he was up with Merle…because he was out drinking until after bars closed down and Merle was finally ready to go home. Once upon a time when he'd seen these hours on the clock it was for a very different reason.

Life had been a lot different then…back when he and Merle were a couple of bachelors who didn't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.

And it seemed strange to Daryl, at almost four in the morning, at that hour when all our thoughts naturally become so much more profound, how much his life had changed in such a relatively short amount of time. If he'd spoken to himself…even on the very night he'd rolled into Sweet Junction with Merle and stumbled out of the truck and into the Watering Hole…and he'd told himself that this was where he'd be today…pacing around his house in his underwear with his newborn daughter tucked in his arm and his wife sleeping in the other room while Merle was next door in bed with his wife…and Daryl still hadn't entirely gotten used to the idea that Andrea and Merle were legally married by the state of Georgia…he would have laughed at himself and figured he'd been on a binder of some sort.

But he wouldn't trade this for the world. He hated being denied sleep when he was exhausted, and it could make him madder than just about anything…but it was really worth it to look at the little blue eyes that were looking at him, starting to flutter closed every now and again before popping back open in some silent protest against the natural order of things.

Daryl circled around, opening the door to let Lincoln back in…waiting patiently for the dog to realize he was being let back inside because he didn't want to risk making any noise to call him and possibly stir up the baby who might actually be willing to sleep soon…and he closed the door once the dog was in, going in the kitchen and getting him a treat as quietly as possible, leaving the glass lid of the jar on the counter so that if he had to repeat the action later he wouldn't even have to risk the slight rattle of the glass.

And when Eliza Jo's eyelids finally fluttered shut with no sign of popping back open, her tiny eyelashes laced together, sending her off into the world where she dreamed of whatever it was that someone who had barely been alive for a few days, Daryl walked as carefully as he could back into the bedroom.

Daryl glanced at Carol, sleeping despite the fact his bedside lamp was still on, and he smiled to himself at the fact that if she could see herself, sleeping with complete and total abandon, she would have fussed about not being very put together.

Her hair was everywhere, her mouth was open, and she was sprawled out, snoring…despite the fact she would swear until she died that she didn't snore. But Daryl knew she was sleeping good at the moment and that she needed it.

And even though she wouldn't agree, he thought she looked beautiful sleeping like that. It made his heart thud a little in his chest to think that she trusted him enough…loved him enough…that she slept like that around him…completely lost to the world…knowing that he was off, walking circles around the house, with their brand new little girl.

Daryl eased the baby into the little bed beside Carol's side of the bed and backed up, holding his breath and half expecting her to howl. When she didn't, he smiled to himself…pleased with the little accomplishment. He glanced once more at her and then went around the bed, switching off the lamp and covering himself up.

Normally he would wrap his arm around Carol…normally he would draw her into him to sleep against him…but tonight he let her be. He didn't want to wake either of them.

And finally he closed his own eyes, with a contented sigh, knowing that the peace and silence would be short lived and he'd best get the most sleep he could out of the moment they'd been given.


	5. Chapter 4: Grandparents Know Best

**AN: Hi there! Here's another little chapter for you in our story! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol felt like she had risen from the dead, and not in the positive sense of the phrase. She didn't feel, like some reported feeling from time to time, that she had slept deeply and completely and that now she was rising up to greet the day completely recharged.

No. She felt more like she hadn't slept in so long that she'd finally just died from exhaustion and somehow she'd risen as an animated body and nothing more.

Her baby…her precious, beautiful little bundle of joy…didn't ever sleep…or at least she rarely slept when Carol could sleep and not feel guilty about it being an hour of the day when it wasn't proper to go to bed just because the baby was sleeping for a moment.

And she worried, even though the baby had only been home for one day and one night, that Daryl was fonder of their daughter than she was…but of course he wasn't the keeper of the milk filled breasts with the nipples that were already tender that Eliza Jo was so fond of sucking on. He didn't have to wake for every feeding and go through the stress of trying to get the baby to latch and feed before she launched into a tantrum that would only make it that much more difficult to accomplish what she was trying to accomplish.

Daryl was already father of the year, too, when it came to dirty diapers. He offered to change each and every one of them…but the problem was that the baby made him nervous. And in particular, picking her up made him nervous…putting her down made him nervous as well, though not as much. So as a result, Carol needed to be present every time he changed a diaper to present the baby to him as some kind of dirty diaper prize that he would change.

And then of course there was the problem that during the process he was nervous about changing the diaper, and Eliza Jo…who had a very keen sense of smell for fear already…reacted to that. So Carol had to often spend her time afterwards trying to calm the baby after a diaper change that took longer than she expected it to take.

It was really easier to change the diapers herself.

And Carol felt guilty for worrying already about the rest of her life if her darling, precious, amazing daughter never learned to sleep and her supportive, wonderful husband never learned not to fear the non-sleeping dragon baby.

What made matters even worse, at the moment, was that though she was desperately tired, her house had somehow developed into a high traffic area…and to make matters worse…her crying baby was nowhere in sight.

In place of the baby that didn't sleep the night before was a quiet, snoozing little bundle of everything that baby girls were supposed to be made of who sweetly passed between the waiting arms of the Greenes, Michonne, Andrea, and Merle…all of which had congregated at the house to signal to Carol that the workday must be done for those who kept regular schedules.

Carol did everything she could, though, to wear a smile and accept the compliments on the baby that her body had produced. She did everything she could not to cry at the very fact that her daughter was quiet and resting and she wanted desperately to ask them all…not to leave...to stay and let her leave and retire to the bedroom for just an hour…that's all she'd decided she needed…just an hour of sleep and she wouldn't have to curl up on the floor and weep over the fact that she already felt like she might not make it as a mother.

But that wasn't good etiquette when you had visitors, and so she plastered on a happy face and did her best not to complain about how tired she was or ask too many questions about whether or not she was the first mother in the history of the world to fear, after her daughter's second night on Earth, that her child might not ever allow her to sleep again.

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Daryl felt like every part of his body weighed about fifteen or twenty pounds more than it should. He kept getting up and walking small circles around the house, pretending to be doing one thing or another, just to make himself feel less like he wanted to curl up on the couch, right on top of everyone that was sitting there, and take a nap.

Eliza Jo was asleep, and she had been most of the day, and the voice in his head kept screaming to him that he wanted to go over and wake her up. He hated the idea of her crying or showing out in front of everyone…maybe exposing him and Carol both as bad parents because their baby cried…but he was afraid that the sleeping she did during the day was the reason that not much of it was happening during the night.

And he watched Carol as she talked with the others and smiled and politely excused herself when Eliza Jo needed to be fed to go and hide in the bedroom for a few minutes before returning, bright and happy, to join the conversation, and he wondered how she did it.

He knew she'd slept even less than he had, but still she seemed so together. She seemed so in control of everything and so pleased. She didn't seem to be feeling as grumpy or as touchy as he did. He felt like he was in such a mood that it was all he could do not to scream at Lincoln for taking two minutes too long to cross the yard or not to tell everyone that Eliza Jo was cute, but she wasn't what she seemed…she had them all fooled.

When Hershel got up, rather unexpectedly, and invited Daryl to join him outside, Daryl didn't know what to expect, but he went with the man in hopes that the slightly cooler temperatures outside might wake him up a little.

When they got on the carport, Hershel pulled over a stool that had been left out there by Merle ages ago when he was working on his bike, and he sat on it, facing Daryl for a moment, a half smile on his face. Daryl, with no place else to go for the moment, took a seat on the brick step in front of the door and was momentarily disturbed at how comfortable he thought the brick felt in his current condition.

Hershel dug around in the pocket of the light jacket he was wearing and produced two cigars, one of which he held out to Daryl who took it.

"I brought these to celebrate," Hershel said with a smile. "Jo doesn't like me to smoke them except on special occasions…but I convinced her that this was a pretty special one."

Daryl gladly accepted the cigar and thanked Hershel, working to light his while Hershel went to work on the one that he had.

Being outside was better than being inside anyway. Daryl wasn't even sure how Merle was standing it, other than the fact he'd seen him nipping from the silver flask that Hershel had given him as a "wedding present". Inside the conversation was all about babies and things like sitz baths that Daryl wasn't even sure he wanted to have the ability to comprehend.

"So how does it feel, son?" Hershel asked, still wearing the same half smile as before.

"What?" Daryl asked, trying to keep as much of the irritation out of his voice as he could. He wasn't actually irritated with anyone in particular…least of all Hershel…but he felt like he might just blow up for no good reason if he wasn't careful to keep the fuse out.

"Being a Daddy?" Hershel probed.

Daryl looked at the old man and considered his options. On the one hand, he knew he should probably lie and say that it was perfect and wonderful and everything he'd ever possibly dreamed that it could be. After all, that's what a good Daddy would say. On the other hand, though, he wondered if Hershel might understand his pain and maybe tell him how…other than borrowing Merle's flask…he might survive the next eighteen years if this was any indication of what he might expect.

Finally, Daryl opted for honesty and the hope of something…support or wisdom or anything…from the man.

"I suck at it," Daryl said, matter of factly. He almost laughed at himself out of the sheer exhaustion he was feeling and the relief behind saying the words out loud.

Hershel frowned at him.

"What do you mean?" Hershel asked. "I hardly believe that's true."

Daryl chuckled. He examined the cigar he was holding before puffing off it again.

"It's true…I do," Daryl said. He shrugged. "Carol…she's doin' alright…but me? I'm 'bout ready ta throw in the fuckin' towel an' we ain't even made it three days."

Hershel's half smile broadened. He nodded a little and worked at his cigar.

"In the beginning," he said, "it's always hard."

Daryl nodded his head. He was feeling ashamed now of admitting that he was terrible at this parenting thing. He changed diapers to stop crying and just made the crying worse. He wanted to stay up with Carol every time that Eliza Jo had cried the night before…but that would mean that neither of them slept more than maybe an hour all together it seemed.

"She's…" Daryl started. He didn't know what he wanted to say. He loved Eliza Jo already. He loved her with all his heart. He wanted to protect her and he wanted to make her life perfect…but he was starting to think the first step to that might be finding her more suitable parents who could keep her from feeling the need to howl nearly every time that she was put down to sleep. "She's perfect," Daryl said, shrugging. "But she don't like us."

Hershel chuckled.

"She doesn't like you?" Hershel asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"Nope…cries constantly. Ever' damn time we got her ta sleep last night, she was cryin' again for somethin' else. Don't never stop…" Daryl said.

Hershel chuckled again and nodded his head.

"That's babies," he said. "That's got nothing to do with you and Carol. It'll happen with Eliza Jo…and it'll happen with any other little one you bring home."

Daryl felt his stomach churn at the foolish thought they'd once had that they might do this more than once. If they failed with one, he didn't even want to dream about ruining more.

Daryl just shook his head. It was really the only response that he could give.

Hershel chuckled at him again.

"The first night with our son…" Hershel said, pausing the way he often did when he was remembering something. "I thought we'd made the biggest mistake of our lives. I told Jo right then and there that we weren't fit to be parents…they were going to take him away from us. I was afraid…at times…that I might even do something irrational…just to make it stop."

Daryl stared at Hershel, unable to believe that the man with five children could say such a thing. All of his children were grown now, or at least legally so, and they seemed to be doing just fine. Daryl couldn't imagine that Hershel would ever have any problem being a father.

And he didn't want to admit that there was at least once the night before…or the morning…or whatever the hour had been…when he had entertained, although extremely briefly, the thought that it might have been far better if they'd never had Eliza Jo and that he'd give anything for silence.

"Ya serious?" Daryl asked finally.

Hershel nodded, working at the cigar, a hint of smile still on his face.

"It doesn't make you a bad parent, Daryl," Hershel said, "if your baby acts like every other baby in the world…or even if she's a little different. What makes you a good or bad parent isn't what you think or how you feel sometimes…it's how you act. And I can see exhaustion and new parenthood all over your face and all over Carol's…but I also see a beautiful little girl who cries for what she wants because she knows that she's going to get it…and she stops when she's done because her needs are being satisfied."

Hershel paused and shifted around on his stool, switching the foot that was resting on the lower bar.

"What I see are two new parents who are doing the best that they can," Hershel said.

Daryl sighed and shifted around on his own brick seat.

"I shouldn't get frustrated at my own damn kid," Daryl said.

Hershel chuckled again and shook his head.

"Daryl…if you think that getting frustrated at your child makes you a bad father, then you're dead wrong. It's not getting frustrated at them that makes you a bad parent," Hershel said. "There are days I'd still like to tie Maggie up by her hair and beat her for sassing both of us the way she does…thoughts and actions are very different things."

"How the hell can gettin' frustrated like that make ya good at this, though?" Daryl asked, shaking his head and reaching a hand around to squeeze at the too tired muscles.

Hershel shrugged a little.

"If you get frustrated about something, it means you care about it. You can't get frustrated over something that you don't care about…and caring about your children is never a bad thing," Hershel said.

"We ever gonna sleep again?" Daryl asked. "I mean what if she's…what if there's somethin' wrong with her an' she don't learn ta sleep?"

Hershel chuckled again.

"She'll learn to sleep," Hershel said. "And don't make the mistake of comparing her to other babies…Jo did that at first and it only served to make us both that much more miserable. Eliza Jo is her own person…and she's just fine. And you will sleep again."

Daryl sighed. He wanted to believe Hershel for all the times that he'd been right before, but it was difficult when he felt like his eyeballs wanted to explode.

They sat there, in silence, for a bit before Daryl felt the door bump against him and he got up to allow Michonne to escape. She excused herself, declaring that Tyreese had her daughters and she needed to get home and make dinner…and that he and Carol probably wanted a little alone time with the baby, and she disappeared.

Daryl couldn't even remember, when she'd left, if he'd even said goodbye to her.

He turned, tossing his cigar butt into the bucket in the corner of the carport, and stared sleepily in Hershel's direction as the old man abandoned his stool and moved it out of the way.

"Tell you what…" Hershel said. "Why don't you do Jo and me a favor?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes slightly at the old man. He felt like doing no favors for anyone at the moment. He almost felt offended that someone would dream of asking him to do a favor.

"Eliza Jo is our first honorary granddaughter," Hershel said. "Why don't you let us spend a little time visiting with her…a little time getting the private love and cuddles in that we really want to get in…and you and Carol take a little nap while you wait for us to get done?"

It took Daryl a moment to even comprehend what was being said. He smiled slightly when he realized what Hershel was saying and then he shook his head.

"Ya don't understand…I don't want'cha ta have ta deal with her if she don't want no part a' behavin'," Daryl said.

Hershel shook his head.

"Oh…not for long…" Hershel said. "Just long enough for you to get a little nap in and us to get a little time in. I suspect we've handled a few babies in our day…we should be fine just long enough to get our fill."

Daryl smiled a little to himself. He hated to admit how wonderful the idea of a few minutes of sleep…where they just didn't have to worry…sounded to him.

"I reckon I could tell Carol ta top her off for ya," Daryl said.

Hershel nodded.

"What about Merle an' Andrea, though?" Daryl asked, realizing that his brother and Andrea were still inside.

Hershel shrugged.

"They could visit with us if they wanted…we might even scare up a bite to eat before we leave…if I recall, cooking wasn't high on Jo's priority list when we first got home," Hershel said.

It was true. Daryl had made breakfast and if he hadn't they might not have even bothered to eat anything at all that day.

"What do you say?" Hershel asked. "It would mean a lot to us…"

Daryl chuckled.

"Hell…ain't gotta persuade me," he admitted. "An' I reckon Carol wouldn't be too damn hard ta win over…not long as she knowed we was gettin' the baby back."

Hershel chuckled.

"Oh we'll be more than glad to give her back," Hershel said. He winked at Daryl. "That's what grandparents do best."

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**AN: For the few PMs and reviews I've gotten suggesting/asking/etc. about my experiences with children, I'll tell you this. I don't have children in that I've never birthed any.**

**I do have children, though, in that I have had a heavy hand in caring for and helping out in raising (in various ways) a few. I know what it feels like not to sleep because they are small and still don't sleep, or because they are teething, or because they are sick, or because someone let them get off schedule. **

**I've helped a lot of new mothers and fathers out and I know more than I probably should ever need to know about breastfeeding (though I haven't personally done it) and the other delights that follow bringing home baby. **

**So I'm not clueless about children, even though I have no biological ones of my own. **

**I just thought I'd throw that in there for anyone who was wondering. Reviews?**


	6. Chapter 5: Of Mice and Men

**AN: I'm glad to see that some of you who read Sweet Junction are enjoying this story.**

**I've had a question about Michonne/Tyreese, and yes, we are going to see some of them as well. We're just getting started here. **

**This is a Merle/Andrea chapter. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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Merle sat in the truck a moment outside the animal shelter and ran his hand over his face. The place would be closing soon, or so the large sign said, and he didn't have long to waste sitting there and thinking over the direction that his life had taken if he was going to do this.

And he'd spent most of his day at work talking himself up to this, so he was going to do it.

Merle didn't know what to do about Andrea's mood lately. Since the shooting she'd been down…and that was really the only word that he could think of to describe it.

He knew that she was down on herself. He knew that she was bothered because the shooting had made it difficult for her to do a lot of things.

She was receiving a financial award for what had happened, but it was pretty meagre, from what Ed had left to his name, and that was supposed to hold her over until she could work again…since neither a waitress nor a beautician could really do much work with only temporary use of her left arm. But the money really wasn't much.

And Merle was frustrated with the hit their sex life had taken, and he couldn't pretend that he wasn't, but he suspected that it bothered her even more than it bothered him. She seemed concerned every time he was late from work, even if it was an hour or something of the like…something that never would have gotten her attention when she didn't care if he was gone for even a day at the time, that he was off whoring around.

But he had no interest in whoring around. He'd never been a man that could see himself being devoted to some woman, married and expecting to spend the rest of his life with just the one, but now that he was there…he couldn't see himself being anything else.

He wasn't going to fuck this up. He'd fucked up enough in his life. This wasn't going to be another thing on his list.

And Andrea, for all that he knew she was dealing with behind closed doors, was great about putting on a show for everyone else. She was worried that if she let anyone in on what she was feeling…what she was dealing with…they would think she regretted what had happened or that she blamed Carol. And that wasn't the case at all.

So she put on a show in front of everyone that she was great, and life was great, and everything was just as fucking fabulous as it could be.

And Merle was the only one that saw how she was in private. But she kept his shit to herself, so he was keeping her shit to himself.

And he was going to try to at least make her feel a little damn bit better since he didn't have a single fucking clue how to solve any of her problems.

He pushed open the truck door and let himself through the gate, making his way toward a short, overweight woman who was coming toward him and looking at him like she was deciding if she hated him or not.

"We're full…" she said. "We can't take any more drop offs."

Merle stared at the woman who was staring hard back at him. He wasn't sure what the hell to say to the woman who looked like she might start a fight with him despite the fact he was pretty sure he could step on her if he had enough energy left after work to raise his leg that high.

"I ain't droppin' shit off," Merle said. "I wanta damn rat dog."

The woman looked confused for a moment.

"You want what?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Merle chuckled at her facial expression.

"I want one a' them lil' dogs looks like a rat," Merle said.

The woman looked at him a moment longer.

"You want a Chihuahua?" She asked.

"They look like lil' rats?" Merle asked. "'Cause if they do…that's what I want."

The woman looked a little unsure, but she started to walk away and waved at him.

"I think you're talking about Chihuahua's," she said. "We have a couple of mixed ones and we've actually got a litter of puppies that come from a puppy mill last week. They're ten weeks old. What do you want it for?"

"It's for my wife," Merle said, realizing the word still sounded strange on his tongue. "She wants one of 'em…sorta like a kid. She needs some cheerin' up an' I come ta get her one ta see if it works."

Merle kept step behind the little one, deciding as he walked that he liked her simply for the fact that she was so small that she amused him. She led him into a building that was something like a house converted into an office and he followed her down a hallway.

"We have the puppies in here," she said. "It's too cold to have them out in the general population."

Merle chuckled at the term.

"Damn prison mutts?" He asked.

The woman turned around and shot him a look that made him chuckle again. She took her rat dogs very seriously.

When they got in the room, there was a small area that was walled off with tiny little partitions and she led Merle over to it where there at least ten of the smallest dogs that Merle had ever seen in his life…that is if they were actually dogs.

He studied the little things a moment, trying to come to terms with the fact that he expected to pick one of them up and take it home with him. He was trying to convince himself that walking out of here with one of the things in his possession wasn't going to cost him his manhood entirely…

He was doing it to make his wife happy…and that was what the hell a man was supposed to do.

"Which one a' the things would ya want if you was Andrea?" Merle asked.

The woman looked at him, her mouth half open in question.

"Your wife?" She asked.

Merle nodded.

"I'm tellin' ya…the rat's for her…so which one a' these damn things is right for a woman?" Merle asked.

The woman dug around in the pile of multicolored mice like creatures for a moment and came up with one that Merle would have described as piebald.

"Is your wife good with animals? She treat them right?" The woman asked.

Merle chuckled.

"She's takin' care a' one a' these here dogs for a friend right now…I think she likes the damn dog more'n she likes me," Merle said. "That's why the hell I gotta get the right one for her."

The little woman nuzzled the tiny thing she was holding.

"I was thinking of taking this little one home with me," the woman said. "But I have four at home…but I wasn't going to let her go to a bad home. If your wife's going to treat her like she should be treated, though, then I guess you could take her."

Merle held his hand out and she offered him the little thing. He could have held her with one had for the tiny little thing that she was, but he held her with both since she was so damn excited he was scared he might drop the rat.

Merle studied her and once again reminded himself that this was the shit he had to do…and one day Andrea would make it up to him. He'd remember to remind her that she owed him for this shit…

"Does it run on the damn wheel by itself, or ya gotta train it ta do that?" Merle asked.

The woman looked horrified and Merle chuckled. She looked a little more relieved when she realized he was joking.

"Fine…" Merle said. "I'll take it."

Merle followed the woman, the excited rat squirming around in his hands, up to a desk where she made him fill out paperwork while she coddled the rat dog that he was claiming. Finally, everything signed and the fee for the thing paid, Merle accepted the thing back and took the plastic bag full of shit that the woman offered him.

"Your new parent package," the woman said, presenting him with a plastic bag.

Merle chuckled to himself thinking that Daryl and Carol hadn't gotten a package to go with Lil' Bit when they'd brought her little squirmy ass home. The woman looked at him like she expected him to explain his chuckle and he shook his head.

"Do you have a leash?" The woman asked.

Merle looked at the little rat and then back at the woman.

"Ya ass serious?" He asked.

The woman nodded at him.

"It's a law," she said.

Merle chuckled.

"I was just gon' put the damn thing in my pocket," he said.

Merle looked at the tiny thing again that he almost couldn't bring himself to describe as a dog.

"Might can find a bit a' damn string somewhere in that truck…" Merle said.

The woman dug around under the desk where she was standing and came up with a strange type of twine leash that was way on bigger than the rat. Merle took it to satisfy her and nodded his head.

"That it or ya got somethin' else for me?" He asked.

The woman smiled…it was the first smile he'd seen on her face since she'd charged him at the gate like a Bantam hen.

"That's it," she said. "Congratulations."

Merle grunted and turned, taking all his spoils and the squirmy rat and slipping out the way he'd come.

When he got in the truck he put the tiny dog between his legs to keep it from getting lost down between the seats or some shit like that and shook his head to himself again. He was turning into a damn pussy for a piece of pussy…that was the only damn way he could explain the fact that he was driving back toward his house with a damn rat shoved down in his crotch, hoping the rat would be something that Andrea's ass was happy to see.

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Andrea was halfway cleaning the house. She'd spent most of the day cleaning it and there really wasn't much else to be done. She hated to admit that it was the cleanest her house had ever been…and it was mostly owing to boredom and too much energy.

She hated how stiff she felt, and she hated that her mind wanted to do all kinds of things that her body just wasn't on board for. Her mind suggested it, and she thought it sounded like a great idea…but then her body shot everything down.

Therapy was a pain in more than one sense of the word. She had these great things called "life goals" and she was working up to doing all the things that she'd been able to do before Ed had decided to rip through her muscles and tendons and everything else that was supposed to be in the upper region of her body with a bullet.

She wasn't sorry that she'd taken the bullet…she was truly relieved that it hadn't hit Carol…that it hadn't possibly cost her friend her life…or done something to the baby that she already thought was precious, and much less an alien life form than she'd been when she was occupying space in Carol's body.

Really she wasn't sorry for any of that. But that didn't mean that she didn't feel sorry for herself simply because she didn't feel like herself.

She felt like she was herself in her mind, but she was trapped in the body of someone who was probably eighty…and someone who didn't live like she wanted to live.

And she felt sorry for herself because she was afraid that she was going to fuck up her marriage before it ever even got started good. Merle Dixon wasn't the marrying type, but he'd married her. She'd never thought she'd see herself honestly married to a man…and so many times in her life she'd silently faulted women for not keeping their husbands satisfied so they had to go in search of another woman that they would ultimately try to blame for the entire thing…and now she was changing her mind on all the old opinions she'd held.

And she was surprised at how terrified she was, constantly, that Merle was going to get tired of her and trade her in for someone who was more exciting and someone who could do for him all the things she'd done in bed before the shooting…all the things she still wanted to do but her stupid body fought against her when she tried.

The doctors…the therapists…everyone said it would get better. They said it was already so much better than they expected it to be at this point and she was getting better by the week. They said all she had to do was be patient.

But it was difficult to be patient when she felt like, at any moment, Merle might wake up from whatever had happened to him to make him marry her in the first place and he might realize that he'd made a mistake.

She'd failed at a lot of shit in her life…and it killed her to think that she might fail at this before she'd even had the chance to really wrap her mind around it.

Andrea checked the clock again. Merle was late from work. She tried not to say anything when he was late…she tried to tell herself he was just down at the Watering Hole holding down a bar stool and that was it…but it didn't mean that her mind didn't tell her that it was something much worse than that. And soon she'd know she was the wife that she used to think negative things about because she couldn't satisfy her husband, and he didn't want to be with her any longer.

When Merle came through the door, though, Andrea did the same thing that she did every day that he was late. She fought herself not to say anything. She pretended she was still focused on the cleaning she was doing, though she'd really been done for some time, and she barely glanced at him…welcoming him home with a word only, not wanting to be too clingy or needy or grabby or anything else that he might admonish her for.

"Damn house smells like bleach or some shit," Merle growled, coming in the door and tracking dirt well into the kitchen, ignoring entirely that the floor was the cleanest it had been since they moved in and that mopping it had cost her a good bit of her day since she couldn't hold out for too long at a time.

"I cleaned," Andrea said.

"Figured that much, 'less ya was drinkin' the shit," Merle said.

Andrea watched him, his coat still on, as he went and got himself a drink. She wondered what kind of day he'd had that he hadn't even bothered to shed his coat before he started pouring drinks.

"Ya thirsty?" He asked.

Andrea wasn't supposed to drink with her pain medicine, but she'd translated that to she wasn't supposed to drink much…and even that she interpreted loosely at times.

"Yeah…pour me one while you're going," she said.

She decided to abandon her pantomime of cleaning and came into the kitchen, tossing the used cleaning rag into the sink to transfer to the laundry later.

Merle clunked the glass in front of her, sloshing the liquid a little.

"Picked ya up a lil' damn somethin' while I was out…but it ain't much," he said.

Andrea looked at him curiously. Merle hadn't proved himself to be one for random gifts.

He pulled the hand out of his jacket that he'd had oddly tucked there and offered up its contents and Andrea's jaw fell open.

It was the smallest little black and white puppy that she'd ever seen in her life, and she might have thought it was dead for a moment for how still it was, tucked in Merle's hand that way, but it wiggled as she took it and woke up.

"Merle!" Andrea said. "Where the hell did you get this?"

Merle chuckled.

"Ya said ya wanted the damn thing, didn't'cha?" Merle asked. "I got it from the shelter outside a' town…ya thought I was late 'cause I was out bein' a dick."

Andrea frowned. Maybe Merle was more aware of her feelings about how things were going in her life than she gave him credit for.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Andrea asked, flipping the little puppy over to examine it while it wiggled in her hands.

"Girl," Merle said. "That's all the hell we need 'round here…another damn bitch."

Andrea could have almost cried. She was happy about the puppy, but more than anything, she couldn't believe the face that Merle was wearing. He was excited…and she didn't expect that it really had anything to do with the puppy.

"Thank you!" She said.

Merle smirked.

"Don't say that shit…" Merle said. "Ya can make it up ta my ass later…"

Andrea smiled at him and leaned toward him, puckering at him to let him know that she expected a kiss and he obliged her.

"I promise," Andrea said. "I intend to make a lot up to you."

Merle just nodded at her softly and stood there a moment, sipping his drink while she nuzzled the excited little dog.

"I need a fuckin' shower," Merle said. "Smell like sweat an' piss 'cause ya damn rat pissed on me in the truck…go show the damn thing off or do whatever the hell ya gonna do with it. We'll talk more about how ya makin' that shit up ta me when I don't smell bad enough ta turn my own damn gut inside out."

Andrea smiled.

"Towels are clean," she said. "Maybe you could have a shower now and we could take a bath together later? After dinner?"

Merle growled at her and she knew that he hated her mentioning his secret love of the relaxing baths that she drew for them both.

She winked at him, unable to keep herself from smiling.

Merle turned to go and take a shower and Andrea went for Juniper's leash so she could take the puppy next door and show it off for a moment. It didn't compare, she realized, to Eliza Jo…but she was still proud of it and she had all intentions of showing it off for at least a few minutes.

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**AN: So there you go! Any suggestions for a name? I'm still testing things out…I have a few in mind but I'm still open to suggestions.**


	7. Chapter 6: Caution: High Traffic Area

**AN: Here you go…another little chapter to keep us moving along. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"Priscilla…Prissy," Andrea said. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

Carol nodded.

"Do you like it?" She asked, keeping her voice low in hopes that they could make it through the diaper change she was attempting without waking Eliza Jo.

Andrea was following her around, her tiny new puppy in her hands while Daryl showered off his day and Lincoln and Juniper kept patrol of the front yard.

"I like it…" Andrea said. "She looks prissy."

Carol didn't want to tell Andrea that she was exhausted. She could see that Andrea was excited about the tiny dog…and she thought it was remarkable that Merle had stepped up enough to come up with the idea to bring her the puppy all on his own.

Merle had been stepping up quite a bit since the latest event with Ed. Carol was impressed, as was Michonne, but Daryl warned them to keep quiet about it. He was operating under the concern that any attention drawn to it might make the activity go away.

When Lincoln and Juniper both started to raise hell outside, waking the baby that Carol was almost done changing on the changing table in the nursery, she cursed under her breath. The barking also stirred up the little dog that Andrea was holding, Prissy apparently she was to be called, and Andrea had to do a little more work to keep a hold on her than she'd planned, causing her to hiss and curse at the unexpected effort.

Carol collected up her now howling baby that would be ridiculous to deal with since she'd been cheated out of her nap and, for as much as she enjoyed waking others, absolutely hated to be disturbed when it was her turn to snooze.

"Expecting someone?" Andrea asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Michonne," Carol said. "But she's not supposed to be here until later…she's going to help me give Eliza Jo her first real bath. Her little chord fell off."

Andrea made a face.

"Did you find it?" She asked. "Can you put it back on?"

Carol chuckled.

"It's a good thing," she said, trying to soothe the squalling baby as she made her way through the house with Andrea on her heels to find out who might be pulling up in their yard and disturbing the dogs, since Merle walking over wouldn't have so much as phased either of them beyond eliciting some jumping against the fence.

Carol appreciated everyone's attentions and things, but she also appreciated a little silence and it seemed that their house had been something akin to Grand Central Station since the baby had been born. Honestly there had been people she wasn't even sure that she knew who had come to see the baby and offer congratulations.

And it was nice, but she didn't really like letting strange people hold her baby…and of course everyone wanted to hold her.

And they disrupted everything. If it was their circle of friends, she could throw a blanket over herself, or half the time she didn't bother if it was just Andrea, Michonne, or Miss Jo, and feed Eliza Jo when she wanted it. If it was some new person with a piqued interest in Carol and Daryl, however, simply because they had a new baby that someone had told them about here or there…and they'd know her mother or her father at some point in their lives…she had to excuse herself to another room.

She also felt she had to excuse herself to change the baby.

And she felt sorry when Eliza Jo wasn't in the mood to be held by whoever was grabbing for her…or when she wouldn't stop crying because she wanted to sleep and couldn't or because her meal was tardy.

Honestly, for as nice as she thought people thought they were being for visiting and bringing a little something in exchange for a chance to gawk at the baby, she thought it would be even nicer of them not to stop by.

When Carol got to the door, which was now being pounded on, she glanced at Andrea who had gone to the window to look out.

"Police cruiser," Andrea said. "I hope Merle didn't do something…"

Carol chuckled.

"They'd have gone to your house…and Daryl didn't say anything," Carol said, unlocking the door and pulling it open to reveal Rick Grimes and his wife, Lori Grimes…who Carol knew but didn't know too well, standing there, a cake plate in hand.

"I hope this isn't a bad time," Rick said, the glass door propped open against his shoulder.

Carol shook her head and forced a smile. Her screeching infant should be an indication of their timing, but it wasn't, of course, and regardless, the damage had been done.

"No…not at all, come on in," Carol said.

She moved out of the way and Rick and Lori passed inside, both smiling, though both also looked a little awkward. Rick had never been inside her house unless it was on business and Lori had never been there at all to Carol's knowledge.

Carol said a silent prayer that if Daryl was done showering he wouldn't pass through the house in his underwear…or worse.

"Um…we wanted to come and say congratulations," Lori said, offering Carol a somewhat reserved smile. "I baked a plain pound cake. I wasn't sure what you'd like."

Carol smiled.

"That's great, thank you…but you didn't have to," she offered, trying to soothe the baby while she tried desperately to cling to decorum and figure out where she had left the pacifier that might be of assistance in this moment. "Excuse me, just a minute?" She said, finally.

Both of them nodded at her and she crossed into the living room, digging around and finding the pacifier. She held it in Eliza Jo's mouth a moment, ignoring her daughter's slightly angry glare, until the baby decided that sucking on it might, at least temporarily, be something she enjoyed more than screaming.

Carol could hear Rick making small talk with Andrea about her recovery and Carol cast a glance in her friend's direction. Andrea preferred talk of the entire thing to be kept to a minimum unless she initiated it, but of course, Rick would have no way of knowing that.

And Carol snickered to herself when she heard Andrea redirecting the conversation to introduce them to her new puppy.

Carol came around to the kitchen again, just as Daryl, thankfully dressed, decided to make an appearance with a confused expression on his face. He wasn't accustomed to the kind of traffic that their daughter seemed to bring to the house either.

And of course, Lori met Carol just as she came into the kitchen, her arms outstretched.

"Can I hold her?" Lori asked.

Carol forced a smile to hide the expression she wanted to make every time that someone requested to hold the baby when she wasn't in the mood to pass her to another stranger. She somewhat reluctantly passed her daughter over to the woman who began the immediate examination of Eliza Jo who began to squirm and decide if she wanted to start to fuss again.

"She's a little fussy," Carol said, apologetically. "She just woke up."

"Carl didn't mind getting woken up," Lori said. "But Judith still despises it. She was almost impossible to put back down if she got woke up."

Carol shook her head slightly.

"Eliza Jo is too," she said. She didn't want to point out that they'd been the ones to wake her baby…but she couldn't recall dropping in on them unannounced and waking either of theirs.

Carol reminded herself that she was just tired and grumpy…and that Lori Grimes was a mother of two and didn't need to be watched like she might drop the baby at any moment…and she tried to turn her attention a little to Rick Grimes who was talking in soft tones with Daryl.

Carol strained her ear to pick up what he was saying…though it sounded really like he was searching Daryl out for information on Ed and Axel, another favorite topic of any of the gossips that conveniently swung by the house to see the baby.

"Would anyone like to sit?" Carol asked, gesturing toward the living room and realizing it was probably quite rude to keep them in the kitchen as though she expected to run them out the door as soon as possible.

Lori smiled and nodded, passing into the living room, and Carol cast a glance at Andrea who took a brief second to roll her eyes at the back of Lori's head and followed after her toward the living room. Seeing that Rick and Daryl were too wrapped up in their chat at the moment to really seem interested in coming with them, Carol went into the living room for yet another stressed visit that would likely last far longer than she wanted and put her having to figure out how to get rid of them so that she could get a little "education" from Michonne when the woman got over there.

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Daryl knew that Carol was exhausted. It was evidenced by the fact that she was already snoring lightly when Eliza Jo had barely been sleeping in her little bed for more than five minutes.

He frowned a little to himself in the darkness. He was tired too…working and not sleeping much at night was a great combination for making him want to sleep any time he got the chance…but he was also feeling like he actually missed Carol, as ridiculous as it seemed, even though she was sleeping just next to him.

Eliza Jo hadn't been home long, but she was getting into something of a schedule, as Michonne called it, and she was at least sleeping a little bit at night.

And Daryl had expected her to require much of Carol's energy…and much of Carol's attention…but he hadn't realized that she would require all of her...and that's exactly how it seemed.

Daryl also felt like putting a sign on their door that stated that they had no vacancy. There just wasn't room for any more people to pass into their house. There was no more time for friendly conversation. There wasn't energy for anything else. They hardly had the energy for themselves, it seemed.

But he reminded himself, over and over, that this was something temporary. This was something that they had to do. It was part of being parents…and it would get easier. He knew it would get easier…he'd only voiced his concerns once to Hershel, but Hershel had assured him that it was normal that he should feel like he did…and that it would pass.

Daryl sighed to himself and pushed closer to Carol in the bed, wrapping himself as close to her as he could get, her smell filling his nostrils. It seemed, at the moment, that was all she had to offer him. He wrapped an arm gently around her and she stirred a little.

"You should sleep," her voice said, low and gravelly as a clear indication that she'd been doing just that.

Daryl kissed the back of her neck in response and shushed her.

"Sleep," he said softly, not wanting his voice to carry enough to wake the baby. "I'm just holdin' ya."

Carol rooted back into him a little bit and he considered telling her that he missed her…that it seemed like they'd been a million miles apart for months when she hadn't really left his sight except for when he was at work. He didn't say it though, he just tightened his grip on her a little and closed his eyes.

He felt like he hadn't slept at all, though he probably had, when Eliza Jo sounded her alarm that she needed something and he felt Carol pull loose from his grip and return, sinking the mattress a little with her movements, as she came back to the bed with the baby.

"Hungry?" Daryl asked, leaning up on an elbow.

"Yeah," Carol breathed in the darkness. "Go back to sleep…you have to work in the morning."

Daryl yawned. It was true. He had to work in the morning, or in a couple of hours, depending on how you wanted to look at it. But these stolen moments…the times when Carol was feeding the baby and there was no one to interrupt them…no one to disturb them…those were the only times they seemed to have alone.

"She gets a lil' bit bigger…we oughta borrow Hershel an' Jo's cabin," Daryl said. "Run away for a damn weekend or somethin'."

Daryl heard Carol make a noise that was something akin to a groan in the dark.

"Do you even know how much we'd have to pack?" Carol asked. "It's not even worth it…"

Daryl chuckled.

"That's all the hell ya worried about, ya point ta the shit an' I'll pack it myself," Daryl mumbled.

"I don't know…" Carol said.

"Think on it," Daryl grumbled.

"Didn't you think it was sweet that Merle got Andrea the dog?" Carol asked, apparently realizing that Daryl wasn't sleeping like she'd suggested he should.

And he was surprised at his brother's move with getting Andrea the little dog, but it appeared that Merle was sold on Andrea…and Daryl didn't want to jinx it. If Merle had found something with Andrea like he had with Carol…even if it only resembled what he felt a little…then he didn't want to do anything that might deter him for going with it.

"She's been kinda sore lately," Daryl said. "Reckon the damn lil' dog might perk her ass up."

"Maybe…" Carol said. She was quiet for a moment, moving around in the dark and obviously focused on the baby. "Maybe you should suggest to Hershel and Jo that they let Merle and Andrea use the cabin…they haven't had anything like a honeymoon…you know?"

Daryl growled to himself. He really wouldn't deny them the cabin at all, but he was a little sore that Carol had rejected his offer of going up there.

"Someone oughta use it," he said.

"Michonne said Hershel offered it to them for the honeymoon," Carol said. "But they're going to the beach for a couple of days."

"Takin' the girls?" Daryl asked.

Carol hummed something in the dark.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe…"

Carol was quiet for a moment. She shifted around and Daryl could hear the sounds that he'd already learned accompanied the finishing of a meal for Eliza Jo, including the contented humming from his daughter that brought a smile to his face even when he was feeling as grumpy as he was at the moment.

"Now she's not interested in sleeping," Carol said with a sigh. "Of course…"

Daryl chuckled.

"Pass her ta me," he said, sitting up and moving against the headboard, waiting while Carol moved around enough to put the baby in his arms. "Between everyone today, I ain't hardly even got ta touch her," Daryl said.

He nuzzled the baby in the dark and smiled again at the gurgling noise she made at him. Carol shifted around he felt about until he touched her, finding her shoulder and pulling her toward him. Carol moved, resting against him, and he moved his hand up, awkwardly pushing her head toward his shoulder. She shifted, snuggling down against him and he heard her kiss at the baby, probably finding a leg or a foot somewhere near her face.

"Sleep a lil'," Daryl said. "I got'cha both."

Carol rooted a little into him and he rubbed her arm with the hand connected to the arm he had wrapped around her. He sighed to himself again. He was going to be dog ass tired tomorrow…and that meant that he'd probably have to beg some forgiveness for not being the brightest damn farm hand in the world…but at least for the moment, with Carol in one arm and Eliza Jo in the other, he wasn't feeling nearly as lonely has he had been when he'd been trying to sleep.

"Love ya, woman," he said softly, leaning his head enough to kiss Carol's head.

"Love you too," Carol responded, her voice already sounding thicker again.

Daryl smiled.

"Love ya too, 'Liza Jo…" he said, tipping his head enough to kiss the baby on the forehead.

"She loves you too," Carol whispered gently.

"I know," Daryl mumbled back at her, rubbing her arm again.


	8. Chapter 7: What A Man's Gotta Do

**AN: Hi everyone. Just dropping off another little chapter for you here. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol wanted a shower…it was a simple request. And it was one that Daryl felt almost obligated to grant since he really couldn't remember the last time she'd had one…but he wouldn't mention that either. So he was simply supposed to eat breakfast and watch Eliza Jo.

And it would have been simple if she was sleeping, but Eliza Jo did not think Daddy time while Mama took a shower was appropriate for sleep. She'd probably knock out the minute that Carol finished doing all the women things she was doing…but until then she was wide awake.

And she was unhappy about it.

Daryl reassured himself that Eliza Jo was not hungry. Carol had just finished feeding the baby…part of which she had spit up on Daryl to run down his chest, but he didn't think it was enough that she needed a refill.

She had zero interest in her pacifier…even though Carol thought it was some gift from the baby gods.

Daryl sat down on the couch, determined to figure out what Eliza Jo wanted, and balanced her in his lap, trying to hold her like Michonne had showed him, leaned over on his hand. He rubbed her back with the other one, patting it at intervals, hoping she might just need to burp some more…a good burp…one of those trucker burps.

But that wasn't it.

So the next logical conclusion, of course, was that if she'd just put something in, maybe she'd let something out too.

So Daryl took her, holding her to his chest and trying to cover every inch of her body with his hands because everyone had yelled at him enough about holding this or watching that that he was more than a little afraid that parts of her might randomly fall off if he didn't make sure she was covered, to the nursery and put her on her changing table where he held one hand over her, like he'd been shown, and gathered together the supplies he needed with the other.

"We gon' change ya diaper," he said, fumbling with the tiny buttons on the outfit his red faced daughter was wearing.

She balled up her tiny fists and screamed at him in protest, but food was first on the list, then burps, then diapers…so this was going to happen whether she liked it or not. And she didn't like it.

If she'd had the strength and ability to do it, which she still lacked at the moment, Daryl was pretty sure that his precious little daughter turned baby devil would have kicked him in the face and run away.

But he struggled through the diaper change, even though he didn't really think that the diaper he replaced was dirty, and then he fought to get her outfit snapped again, cursing to himself and swearing he was going to find some more damn clothes with zippers in them instead of the tiny ass buttons and snaps that most things seemed to have. Apparently baby clothing stores didn't realize that Daddies had big fingers and might be changing diapers on baby devils while Mamas tried to shower.

The diaper change not producing the effect that Daryl had hoped for, he scanned his memory for what was next in his list.

Food…burp…diaper…and there his mind drew a blank.

He gathered Eliza Jo back up as best he could, wishing he'd already become more comfortable than he was at transferring her from flat against his chest, which was how he typically moved her from one location to another if he had to do it all on his own, to cradled in his arm, which is what she typically preferred…but he wasn't comfortable with that move and keeping everything held into place like it was supposed to be.

And he hated to go into the bathroom and disturb Carol…after all…it was the first damn time the woman had even been in the bathroom alone for a while. She carried Eliza Jo around so often that Daryl had seen her take her with her to take care of her business rather than leaving her to scream somewhere.

"'Liza Jo…this shit's ridiculous," Daryl said. "What'cha want? I swear…I'll give it to ya…just give me some kinda damn sign what'cha want!"

Daryl carried the baby, plastered against his chest, into the living room and put her in the swing that Michonne had accidentally realized she didn't need anymore and fumbled with the clasps on it, snapping them around his daughter that was bucking against the little cradle that she was lying in. He turned the thing on so that it rocked and played music while some light up fish spun around.

Boredom was somewhere on his list and Merle had already said the kid was, in his opinion, a pocket sized stoner. Light up fish were bound to be fascinating.

But they weren't.

Daryl went over to the pack and play by the couch in search of peace offerings for the child he'd formerly considered his daughter but now suspected might be entirely against his existence on this planet.

Hot and cold were on his list somewhere and he knew she wasn't hot because it wasn't hot enough in the house for anything to be hot. So he got a blanket to test against cold and brought that, one of the soft rattling lambs that she had, and another pacifier over.

Daryl tucked the blanket around her and she kicked at it, still fighting her placement in the fish swing. He rattled the lamb and tucked it down next to her before putting the pacifier in her mouth.

When she started to look like she was choking on the pacifier he plucked it out and stared desperately at her. He sat down on the couch, trying to run through his list again in hopes that he'd forgotten the one thing that might be key to making her go to sleep or at least look like she didn't hate her existence and his.

He was sure, now, though he hadn't timed how long Carol had been in there, that she'd either drowned in the shower or she was in there hiding because she knew what was out here.

When he heard Carol padding through the house, Lincoln's toenails clicking as he escorted her, Daryl looked up. She was still dripping water, wearing clean pajamas…and she was barefoot.

"What is going on?" She asked.

Daryl didn't have to ask what she was questioning. By the sounds issuing forth from the little swing, totally drowning out the music that went along with the spinning fish, anyone could assume that the possession was almost complete.

"I broke her," Daryl said with a shrug. "I went through the damn list…ya fed her…I burped her…she threw up once an' then she didn't wanta burp no more…I changed her but she weren't dirty…she's got spinnin' fish, a rattle, a blanket…she didn't want no damn pacifier…"

Carol walked over to the swing and uncovered Eliza Jo from all the things he'd piled on her to try to make her happy. She unbuckled the still fussing baby…and with the skill he hadn't quite managed, somehow wrapped her in the blanket and landed the infant in the cradle position he almost coveted having the ability to achieve.

Carol was good at this shit…

Carol sat down on the couch beside Daryl, rocking Eliza Jo and talking to her in the voice that she reserved for her and for Lincoln.

"What did Daddy do to you? Did he pull on your toes and ears?" She teased, talking softly to the baby while she rocked her.

And slowly, the cries softened and then stopped and Eliza Jo…almost to taunt Daryl, yawned at Carol before making a noise that sounded like a contented growl.

Mommy: three thousand…Daddy: Nil

"Daryl…what's number one on your list?" Carol asked, her voice not changing. She smiled softly at him.

"Food…" Daryl said.

Carol shook her head.

"That's number two…what's number one?" Carol asked again, chuckling slightly.

Daryl frowned at her and shook his head…he already felt exhausted and he hadn't even finished getting ready to go to work.

"Don't panic," Carol said. "That's number one…before everything else…don't panic…she just wants to feel safe and comfortable…and panic doesn't feel safe and comfortable."

Daryl chuckled and shook his head.

"What?" Carol asked.

"I panicked an' forgot my fuckin' list," Daryl said.

Carol laughed, causing the baby to scold her.

"Did you eat breakfast?" Carol asked.

"Hell no…" Daryl said. "I was tryin' ta calm her ass down for like an hour…"

Carol chuckled.

"I wasn't in the bathroom thirty minutes, Daryl," Carol said. "You were trying to calm her for maybe twenty minutes…"

"Felt like a damn hour," Daryl said.

He groaned.

"Reckon I better get my ass cleaned up an' dressed…don't wanna be late again," Daryl said.

"You sure you don't want to stay here with Eliza Jo today? I could go to work for you…" Carol offered, teasing in her voice.

Daryl smirked at her.

"Looks ta me like ya got'cha shit covered right here," Daryl said. "I gotta work."

He winked at Carol before, with much thanks for his job, he went to get ready so that he could go and spend his day with cows that were quiet and easy to understand.

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Merle stretched his neck and nursed the shot of whiskey in front of him instead of tossing it back like he normally would. He glanced around the Watering Hole and took in the few new faces that he hadn't seen, as well as the new woman working there in the absence of Carol and Andrea.

Loretta surprised him, coming over and leaning on the bar in front of him, her ample breasts spilling out. She beat three times on the bar in rapid succession, snatching his attention.

"You're a married damn man, Merle Dixon," Loretta crowed. "Stop eyein' the goods…"

Merle smirked realizing he'd been caught red handed checking out the new working woman.

"Since when the fuck is married the same damn thing as dead?" Merle asked. "Who the fuck is she?"

Loretta looked at the young woman and growled in her throat.

"Says her name's Roxie…Roxie Mills or some damn shit like that…ain't from 'round here an' I'd bet the bar that ain't her name…you can bet…there's a story ta that one," Loretta said.

Merle chuckled.

"Reckon ever' damn body in here's got a story, Loretta," Merle said. "Otherwise they wouldn't be fit ta drink in a 'stablishment fine as this one here."

Loretta straightened up, wiping at the bar and produced another bottle of whiskey, tipping it to fill Merle's glass.

"She's alright," Loretta said. "Just old enough ta serve shit in a bar…twenty two."

Merle turned around, stealing one last glance at the woman. She was well built…a brunette…and he would have bet the pair of tits she was carrying around wasn't the pair that God gave her.

"She's alright, ya got that shit straight," Merle said.

He turned back to stare into the disapproving face of Loretta and chuckled. He tossed back the shot.

"Andrea know you're down here ogling the sorry ass woman I had ta hire ta replace her?" Loretta asked.

Merle frowned slightly.

"She don't know I'm here," he said, "but I reckon it won't take her long ta figure that shit out. I come ta talk ta ya 'bout Andrea…"

Loretta leaned back on the bar, her face close to Merle.

"What's up, sugah?" She asked, resting her chin on her hand.

"Ya got some damn work for her? Easy fuckin' night or somethin'?" Merle asked.

"Thought she couldn't carry trays," Loretta said. "Hell if she can work I'll take her ever' damn night she pleases. Best fuckin' hop I ever had…figured she'd take over this hell hole one damn day. Hate ta lose a workin' girl like that ta doin' some shit like hair."

Merle chuckled slightly and shook his head.

"Ain't like that…she's got her damn heart set on this hair shit she's aimin' ta do an' the damn place is comin' long nice…but she's 'bout as fuckin' low as a body can get 'fore ya start shovelin' dirt over it an' I was thinkin' gettin' back here…might make her ass feel better," Merle said.

Loretta looked concerned, but Merle continued.

"I don't want her ta know I was doin' this shit, though…so I was hopin' ya could call her up…set her up some easy ass shift or somethin'…like a damn Tuesday…don't mention I come down here," Merle said.

"Can she do it?" Loretta asked.

Merle shrugged, gnawing at his lip.

"A little she could, I reckon," he said. "Nothin' too damn heavy or too damn long…maybe work her with someone else that ain't Roxie there?"

Loretta growled in her throat again. Then she smiled at Merle.

"You're a good damn man, Merle Dixon," Loretta said. "Too damn bad ya try ta cover that shit up with bein' such an asshole."

Merle set his jaw.

"'Nough a' that shit…can ya do it or not?" He asked.

Loretta shook her head.

"Yeah…Tuesdays don't too much happen…regulars…I can call her up ta see 'bout gettin' her in here Tuesday," Loretta said. "Just me an' her workin' that night."

Merle nodded and took the shot she offered him before sliding off his stool and digging his billfold out of his back pocket. He picked through it and came out with a few bills. He dropped them on the bar in front of Loretta and she raised a brow at him.

"Time ta pay my tab," Merle said. "Rest a' that shit I want'cha ta break inta fuckin' ones an' put it in Andrea's jar…but not 'til she's been workin' a bit."

Loretta cocked her head to the side.

"It's your money…and you're married…why the hell don't'cha just give it to her yourself?" Loretta asked.

"Ain't the fuckin' point," Merle said. "Can ya just do the shit?"

Loretta nodded and collected up the bills.

"You got it," she said. "When ya comin' back in here?"

Merle shrugged.

"Prob'ly Tuesday," he said. He tipped his head at Loretta and turned, stealing one last glance at Roxie's shaking ass as she leaned over a pool table, and slipped out of the bar.


	9. Chapter 8: The Road Already Travelled

**AN: Hi everyone! Things have been/are/are getting busy! I just wanted to drop you off a little more here so you didn't think I'd run away. **

**This is a Tyronne (Michonne/Tyreese) chapter. More Caryl (and more Mandrea) coming up as soon as I can get it out to you! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Tyreese stopped in the girls' room after his shower and made sure that everyone in there was snug, giving into Angelica's plea for a pacifier and figuring he could beg forgiveness for it later. Michonne was trying to break the girl of having it, saying that it looked bad for her to have one past the age she started to verbalize her desire to have it with actual words, but Tyreese really didn't see the harm in it since she only wanted it at bedtime.

It was one of the few parenting issues they didn't see eye to eye on, but Tyreese figured that they were doing pretty well when the list was as short as it was.

After he came out of the girls' room, he continued his search through the house for Michonne and found her in the kitchen, standing at the counter, transferring things from a shopping bag to a large gift bag…not an unusual task for his fiancé.

"What's that?" Tyreese asked, leaning against the counter and wishing that Michonne had less interest in whatever she was packing up to give to someone and more interest in letting him examine the silk nightgown she was wearing…one that she picked up when she had decided to go and pick him up the silk pajama pants that he was wearing.

Michonne looked at him, obviously leaning around the counter to look at the pants, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Where's your top?" She asked.

Tyreese chuckled.

The silk pajamas she'd picked him up…three different colors that matched the gowns she'd picked up almost perfectly…had bottoms and tops. Tyreese had explained that he wasn't much of a pajama kind of guy…and he wasn't really a silk kind of guy…but in the end Michonne tended to get what she wanted and now that he was in the bottoms he couldn't exactly say that he disliked them…but he still didn't want to be restricted by the top.

"I was hoping you'd like the pants enough that wearing the top would just be a waste of time," Tyreese responded, offering Michonne a smile.

She chuckled lightly at him and shook her head, going back to what she was doing for a moment.

"Who's the gift for?" Tyreese asked, scanning his mind for birthdays or anything else he might have forgotten.

"It's not a gift," Michonne responded, running the ribbon tied around the handle of the non-gift between her thumb and a pair of scissors so it would curl. "It's a care package for Carol."

Tyreese hummed to himself.

Michonne was a compulsive gift giver. Anyone who knew Michonne well at all, knew that. If Michonne didn't give you things…at least from time to time…she didn't care for you at all.

And at first, Tyreese had understood her need to give things away at all. He'd thought that she thrived on thanks, perhaps…but she didn't like to be thanked. Then he'd thought she was quite possibly the most selfless person in the world. But Michonne said that wasn't the case either. She said that she enjoyed, more than anything, the way it made her feel just to know that she'd given someone something they needed or wanted…she liked the feeling of it, but the thanks made her uncomfortable.

And as an acknowledgement of that, most people had learned to barely thank her and just make a fuss over what she did or gave them.

Still, though, Tyreese worried that she might feel like she wasn't getting her fair share from anyone…hardly anyone could afford to be as generous with her as she was with them, himself included.

"Haven't you given enough? The fairy godmother visits them at least once a week…" Tyreese said.

He knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say when Michonne frowned at him.

"Don't fuss…" she said. "I want to do it…"

Tyreese shook his head.

"I'm not fussing," he responded. "I just don't want you to feel like you don't get the same treatment you give…"

Michonne shook her head, moving the non-present present away from her and admiring her ribbon work with her fingertips.

"I don't," she said. "I told you…I like giving gifts."

Tyreese chuckled.

"Then I know a gift I wouldn't mind unwrapping," he said, gesturing at her with his eyebrows.

A smile spread across Michonne's face and she left her work then, coming around the counter and wrapping her arms around Tyreese before he could straighten entirely from the stance he'd taken. He wrapped his around her in response and brought his lips to hers that were awaiting them.

When the kiss broke, Michonne leaned her head against his chest.

"Do you like the pajamas?" She asked.

"Mmm…" Tyreese hummed. "I do…but I like yours better."

Michonne ignored the comment. She had a way of doing that when she wanted to.

"I like the silk," she said. "I like the way it feels against your skin…"

Tyreese felt her run her hands inside the waistband of his pajamas, cupping his ass cheeks before she looked up at him and smirked.

"Are the girls asleep?" She asked. "Did you check?"

Tyreese groaned a little. He would have to confess to the pacifier or she'd see it in the morning.

"They're asleep now," he responded. "I gave Angie a pacy…"

Michonne groaned and frowned again.

"Ty! How am I supposed to break her of that if you keep giving into her?" Michonne asked. "I'm always the bad guy that says no and you're always the kind and happy pacy elf that gives into her."

Tyreese chuckled, running his hands over Michonne's back and hoping this didn't ruin the night he had planned.

"I just don't see the harm in it at night…it's not like anyone is going to see it," he said.

Michonne frowned again.

"Until someone stays with her…" Michonne said. "And besides…do you really want her to have buck teeth?"

Tyreese chuckled again.

"Just think how happy she'll be when you buy her braces to fix it…" he teased.

After a moment of Michonne staring at him…in the unbreaking stare she used when she was trying to paralyze her victims with silence and a cold, icy glare…Tyreese sighed.

"Fine…just tonight. Tomorrow night I won't give in," he said.

Michonne sucked her teeth.

"I believe that as much as Angie does," she grumbled. Tyreese chuckled in response and moved a hand to tip her face to his, bringing his lips to hers softly.

"Do you still love me or should I start packing?" Tyreese asked when he broke the kiss away. Michonne stared at him. Tyreese smirked in response. "I'm taking the pajamas with me…"

Michonne pinched the flesh her hands had been resting on and Tyreese jumped in response, chuckling after the initial response wore off. Michonne smiled softly.

Tyreese pulled himself away from her and pushed her toward the bedroom, flipping off the kitchen light and reaching forward, smacking her ass as she walked a few steps in front of him. She yelped and sped up, glancing back over her shoulder at him once before she ducked into the bedroom.

Tyreese followed after her, already smiling. The bounce in her step let him know that she was in a playful mood…and a playful mood was the best kind of mood to have at hand when they went to bed.

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Michonne was pleasantly relaxed and tired…but she wasn't sleepy. She was never sleepy right after sex, even though Tyreese would often start snoring in minutes and protest that he wasn't sleeping when she'd bother him because she wasn't ready, yet, to be left alone.

Even now he had his eyes closed. Sex made him sleepy…it made her invigorated in an odd sort of way. She wouldn't have wanted to run laps or anything…but she could have easily been talked into a snack and another round if he didn't look so much like he was fighting to stay awake.

Michonne trailed her fingertips lazily over Tyreese's chest muscles, teasing his nipples, knowing the sensation would keep him from drifting off. She darted her eyes, from time to time, up toward his face to see if he'd opened his eyes, and she couldn't help but smile when she finally caught him, eyes barely opened, looking down at her, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"We're not going to sleep, are we?" Tyreese asked, his voice low and showing just a hint of the fact that he might have been on his way.

Michonne bit her lip to bite back the smile at the fact that he was visibly trying to wake himself, simply because he knew that she wanted him to wake up. She shook her head.

"Not yet…" she said.

Tyreese hummed at her and brought his arm around, teasing her shoulder with his hand to get her to move. She knew what he wanted and she obliged him moving so that her head rested near his on the pillows. He wrapped his arms loosely around her upper body, and she leaned in, trailing her fingertip over his lips gently before kissing him and slipping her tongue into his mouth, the kiss breaking in a laugh when he gently caught it with his teeth and held her for a moment before releasing her tongue back into her own mouth.

"Are you ever going to marry me?" Tyreese asked, his voice low. "So we can really start our life?"

Michonne frowned slightly.

She wanted to marry Tyreese…she honestly did. And she considered herself a very rational person most of the time and her rationality said that nothing in the world would make her happier than to marry him and spend the rest of her life just as she was now.

But if she pretended, and she tried to pretend it quite often, that Dean hadn't left his mark on her, she knew that it was nothing more than a farce and that Tyreese knew it too.

Dean had wanted to marry her…even when she wasn't sold on marrying him. She'd always dreamed, like any good girl who had more than enough dolls of varying ages and shapes and sizes to play with, of the dream wedding…the happy marriage…the happily ever after. And Dean had convinced her, perhaps too easily, that he wanted the same thing.

And then he had wanted a baby. Dean had desperately wanted a baby…or so he thought. He'd begged and begged her until she was sure that he'd be the best father in the world. And while she was pregnant with Anjelica there had been moments when he'd seemed unsure as to whether or not they'd done the right thing, but there were moments when the man had acted like he'd have carried the baby himself if he could have.

So she'd never seen it coming…the stark disinterest in the baby once she'd been born. The only concern of his after that seeming to be the fact that Michonne's body bore the battle scars of pregnancy and birth…the questioning if it would ever return to "normal" and the inability to adapt to the idea that this may be the new normal.

And then Michonne had gotten pregnant with Celine…believing what several people had told her that she couldn't get pregnant while breastfeeding. It was the best birth control in the world, they said. Nature's birth control. Not a snowball's chance in hell.

But somewhere in hell there was a snowball sitting on a lawn chair and drinking the water that the other quenched residents would have killed to have…because Celine had followed so quickly after Anjelica that it had almost made Michonne cry at the overwhelming thought of having another baby when she wasn't even sure she knew what she was doing with the first.

And then Dean had sought out what he was really interested in…the youngest, freshest body that he could put his hands on…and Michonne had realized her dream wasn't much of a dream after all…and she'd told herself that her career and her daughters were all she needed. She could raise them…giving and receiving all the love that one person could handle…and she could buy the rest of the comfort that she needed.

So the fact that Tyreese was eager to marry her…the fact that he was eager to adopt the girls as his own the very day that he could…the fact that he was already, with a good deal of zest when he thought his timing was right, discussing them adding their own addition to the family as soon as possible…made her naturally a little nervous that she was much like Sisyphus and doomed to repeat her fate.

"The date's set…" Michonne said.

Tyreese nodded his head thoughtfully and tightened his grip slightly around her, moving himself enough to kiss her on the forehead.

"Are you going to change it on me again?" He asked.

"You know I changed it for Andrea…" Michonne said.

And it was partially true. She had changed a lot of the wedding for Andrea.

Andrea had seemed more thrilled about being her maid of honor…and now her matron of honor…than anything she'd ever seen Andrea excited about. She'd swooned, almost, at the thought of the dress and everything else that Michonne was putting together. It seemed like Andrea's princess dream…that dream that so many little girls have at one moment or another…and it seemed cruel to Michonne to let her be robbed of that. She almost looked forward to it just as much for Andrea as she did for herself. She'd gone so far, in fact, as to have the dresses redesigned so they were much more modest, though still equally as elegant, so that Andrea's princess moment wasn't dampened by the fact that, if she hadn't changed the dresses, it would be the first time she'd showcased her scars in public.

But the other part was that as the date had been approaching, Michonne had been working harder and harder to hide the nerves that she felt over the nuptials. She had almost, in some way that she hated to admit, been happy that Andrea had given her a reason to push off the date.

But she couldn't do that to Tyreese a second time.

"So you're going to marry me this time?" Tyreese asked, raising an eyebrow, his eyes still looking heavier than her own felt.

"I'm going to marry you this time," Michonne said. "I promise you that…"

Tyreese nodded his head slightly and brought his lips to hers again, softly, and she closed her eyes, savoring the sensation and telling her nerves that he should never have to pay for the sins of a man who wasn't good enough to deserve even being in his presence…for the sins of a man who could walk away from the two most precious little girls in the world and never so much as look back.

"Good…" Tyreese said softly when he broke the kiss apart. "Because I'm not going away…and you're going to get tired of me badgering you…especially when we're in the old folks' home and you can't even remember who I am when I propose to you with Scrabble tiles everyday…"

Michonne chuckled at the image and closed her eyes for a moment, imagining them both ancient…her unable to remember who the man was that chased her mercilessly at the top speed of a snail.

"I'm not Dean," Tyreese said after a moment. Michonne opened her eyes, realizing she couldn't hide her expression. Tyreese smiled softly at it. He always seemed able, in a way that was almost bizarre, to read her mind.

"I know you're not…" she replied. And she knew that…no matter what the irrational side of her might want to throw at her.


	10. Chapter 9: Coming Home

**AN: Hi everyone! Just a little chapter here to keep us going! **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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"We have to get you all cleaned up…and smelling pretty…" Carol cooed at Eliza Jo while she bathed her.

The house was quiet…thank goodness…the house was quiet. So often it seemed that the house exploded in doors being opened and closed…people coming in and out…visitors, dogs, children…and Carol tried not to mind, but sometimes it got overwhelming.

She was sure it was elevated by the fact that sleep wasn't what it once had been and she was beginning to resign herself to the fact that it never would be again. At least, though, Eliza Jo was sleeping a little better through the nights…and Carol was thankful for even an extra hour snatched here and there.

Today, though, everyone was at Axel's house…at least everyone who wasn't working or had taken some time off to welcome the man back.

His battle with the judicial system was probably far from done, but Michonne's father had done at least part of what he set out to do and gotten Axel released on what Carol considered to be bail or bond or something…

All she really needed to know was that he was allowed to come home…and later today he would arrive back at his house escorted by Rick Grimes.

So Andrea was organizing efforts to get his house clean…fix it up a little. She wanted him to come back to something that would be nice to come back to instead of coming back to a place that had been closed up and left alone…a place that remind him how long he'd been gone.

And Carol was taking the morning easy. She had no doubt that he'd want to see Eliza Jo…and in a lot of ways, Carol knew that he had done a lot to make sure that her daughter was here now and as healthy and beautiful and bright eyed as she was. So Carol was bathing her now…determined to get her smelling as sweet as she could be and in the best possible mood for when she took the trip down to his house.

Eliza Jo loved baths. Her first two or three she'd been so unsure of that she'd screamed like a banshee the whole time…and then the next two or three that Daryl had given her she'd done the same thing. But Carol figured that Eliza Jo liked to give Daryl a hard time. In reality he was so nervous with her…so jittery…that the baby couldn't help but panic a little when he had control of the reins. Carol hoped that would wear off eventually and that he'd either calm down some in regard to the baby or Eliza Jo would simply learn that those types of emotions were "normal" for Daddy.

Now though, at least when Carol was bathing her, Eliza Jo lounged in her baths. Sometimes they made her obviously sleepy, and other times she wanted to splash, but almost every time she sang and called out to Carol, and today was no exception.

"Is it nice?" Carol cooed back at the baby that was cooing at her. "Feels good…doesn't it? We'll massage you too…get some lotion on you…you'll be all ready after you get pampered a little bit."

At first Carol hadn't really been sure if having a baby might have been the biggest mistake of her life…she'd felt like she was failing at every step of the way, but the more she got into the routine…the more she developed a routine with Michonne's assistance and ideas…the more she was feeling like she was getting good at it. She was feeling more confident about her abilities as a mother.

And Eliza Jo was very nearly two months old and offering no real complaints…at least nothing beyond the normal baby complaints of most babies.

The bath done, Carol congratulated herself on a job well done…like she silently did most times that anything went off without a hitch, and collected Eliza Jo into her towel to take her to the nursery and get her the rest of the way done.

Carol sighed to herself, her daughter wrapped up in her arms and still pleased from her bath. She carried her into the nursery and hummed to herself and to the baby while she got her ready, only pausing a moment when she heard the door slam and heard Daryl wandering about, talking to Lincoln who had walked with him down to Axel's house.

"Where ya at?" Daryl called, coming through the house.

Carol chuckled to herself and turned to look over her shoulder as Daryl came in the nursery.

"Don't yell, Daryl," Carol said softly. "You're messing up our zen…"

Daryl walked over to examine the outfit she was putting on the baby.

"The hell is that?" Daryl asked, reaching his hand over and looping his finger into Eliza Jo's hand. She wrapped her hand around it, offering her toothless smile at him.

"It's a dress, Daryl," Carol said, chuckling.

She felt him reach his fingers up, under her hair, to gently pinch at the skin on the back of her neck. It was a playful teasing pinch that he often did when she gave him a smart ass answer to a question like that. She moved her head, freeing her neck from him and smiled at him and he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"Was talkin' 'bout the damn satellite dish ya got on her head," Daryl said with a chuckle.

"It's not…" Carol protested. "It's a bow…and it's cute…"

"She could pick up signals from space," Daryl said.

Carol snickered.

One thing she and Daryl didn't agree on were bows and headbands. She loved them and adored that a good number of the precious little outfits that she had for Eliza Jo came with them. Daryl, if left unsupervised, would remove them the first chance he got.

"It's cute," Carol said, leaning her face down to rub her nose against Eliza Jo's. The baby squealed at her for it and pumped her legs.

"She's gon' hate it…" Daryl said.

"She is not…" Carol protested. "Can you get her please? I need to get her diaper bag ready and then I'm going to feed her before we go down there…"

This was the first day, in probably more than she should admit, that Carol had bothered taking a shower and doing her hair. She felt better because of it, but she'd spent most of her time in her pajamas since the baby had been born. Soon, though, she'd have to start back at Michonne's office…her maternity leave running out…and she was going to start back with the hair classes because Jacqui would be ready to open the shop before too long and was already announcing that she didn't want to work there too long before Carol and Andrea were certified to join her.

Daryl carefully picked the baby up and Carol watched him out of the corner of her eye to make sure that there wasn't going to be a massive meltdown on the part of father or daughter. He was getting better at it, though…and Eliza Jo simply called out to him in the transition from table to arms instead of crying.

Carol caught Daryl smiling to himself…the quiet self-congratulations that she recognized from her own cheerleading efforts for herself…and he kissed the baby's head, obviously still contemplating when and how he would rid her of the bow that was absolutely adorable.

Daryl started through the house with Eliza Jo and Carol went around the nursery, packing up the diaper bag. It seemed like going to the mailbox, if she had to do it with the baby in tow, required enough thought that packing for a three day weekend might have required before.

When the back was packed, Carol slipped through the house and found Daryl walking a familiar circle from kitchen to living room, humming something to Eliza Jo who was leaning against his chest and looking like a nap might be in order.

"Hey, Sandman, don't put her to sleep," Carol protested. "She needs to eat and visit…it's not nap time again yet."

Daryl snickered.

Carol had taken to calling Daryl the Sandman since she'd discovered that though he often freaked his daughter out with things he found nerve wracking, like diaper changes and baths…and anything that involved putting on or removing her clothes, he could get the baby to go to sleep far easier than Carol could.

He passed her Eliza Jo and she sat on the couch with her, resting the baby in her lap and freeing her breasts from her top. Eliza Jo was smacking at her, making no attempt to hide that she knew it was time to eat and she'd been putting it off since before her bath to make sure she was sufficiently filled for her visit.

Daryl sat beside Carol, his arm over her shoulder, watching her while she fed Eliza Jo. She was accustomed to this when he was around while she was feeding. He reached his hand, gently trailing a finger over her breast and she glanced at him, rolling her eyes in his direction, unable to keep from smirking.

"Hands off…they're not yours right now…" she said.

Daryl growled.

"They ever gon' be mine again?" He asked, his voice bordering on the closest thing to a whine that she got from Daryl. "'Chonne said six weeks…ya know? An' she's damn near two months old."

Carol chuckled.

"When she said six weeks, she was giving you a timeline," Carol said. "But I don't have a doctor's appointment for another three days…so you're just going to have to wait."

Daryl sucked his teeth at her and she chuckled.

"Is it just killing you?" She asked.

Daryl nodded, a smirk forming across his lips.

"Damn sure is…" he responded.

Carol forced an exaggerated frown.

"I'm sorry…and I guess you're poor and unfortunate…and your wife doesn't even take care of you?" Carol asked through her frown.

Daryl smirked.

"Ain't the same…" he said.

Carol rolled her eyes.

"And yet many men have survived it before…and I think you might just make it…" Carol said.

"Three days?" Daryl asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Longer if you keep asking," Carol said, tossing him a smile.

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"Would'ja look at that!" Axel declared once he'd sat down on his couch, surrounded, and Carol had passed him Eliza Jo.

She was silently thanking the little girl for behaving and being in high spirits…but the baby had nothing to complain about for the moment. She was clean, she was fed, and it wasn't quite time for a diaper change…and that was part of the reason Carol had been in a hurry to get her into his arms and let him get his fill of her before Eliza Jo moved on to bigger and better things.

"She's pretty, ain't she?" Daryl asked, grinning from where he was leaning, arms crossed, across the wall.

"That she is…" Axel said.

Merle, Andrea, Carol, Daryl, and Michonne were all there to welcome the man back. Rick Grimes had brought him home, but he hadn't stayed long…only dropping Axel off and wishing good day to him and his visitors.

"How's it feel ta be a free damn man?" Merle asked.

"Pretty good…pretty good," Axel declared. "Ain't so bad, though. Made a couple friends."

Carol chuckled.

"The gentleman of prison…makes friends wherever he goes," Carol said.

Axel nodded his head slightly.

"Thing is…people think just 'cause ya in prison, means you a bad person," Axel said.

Carol watched as he shifted Eliza Jo around, propped up on the knee that he had crossed over his other leg, and kissed at her while she studied him with some concern.

"But it don't…not always…sometimes they's just circumstances behind it all…got'cha throwed in there," Axel said.

There was a slight rumble through all of them. Axel certainly wasn't a bad person, and his time in prison was a case of circumstance. He'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time…or at the right time…depending on which direction you were looking at it from.

Carol certainly wasn't going to assume that everyone who ended up in prison was bad…and maybe those like Axel had a way of finding each other.

"Missed the hell outta Juny, though," Axel admitted with a chuckle. "Much obliged y'all takin' care of her for me."

The little dog was curled next to him on the couch. Carol knew that Andrea would be sad to see the little thing go back to Axel…but at least she had Priss, who was carried so often she barely knew what it was for her pampered feet to touch the ground, to keep her occupied.

"We loved having her," Andrea said.

"So damn much Andrea drug home this here damn rat ta stick up in my damn bed at night…" Merle growled.

Carol chuckled.

She knew, even if Merle didn't know that she knew, that he was just as fond of the dog as Andrea was. Andrea had blabbed, whether or not he wanted her to, that the first night she'd had the puppy she'd begged him to let it sleep with them because she was crying…but it was Merle who decided that the dog should simply be tucked into the bed with them every night after that…but, of course, Merle would never admit to it.

"We're all glad you're back," Michonne said from where she was sitting. "And Daddy says that it looks good for you…you didn't do anything wrong…and there's a great chance a jury's going to see it that way too and clear you for good."

Axel nodded his head and Carol noticed that Eliza Jo, now apparently feeling she no longer needed to hold the new man in concern, was fluttering her eyelids a little and starting the humming that often went along with her decision to lull herself into a nap she'd been denied at an earlier time.

"I hope they do see fit ta clear me," Axel said. "I'll keep right on workin' at the mill 'til they do, though…or 'til they haul me back."

He chuckled.

"They'll know where ta find me…" he said.

"You'll be around for a while," Michonne said confidently. "And Daddy's confident that you've got nothing to worry about…I'd rest easy if I were you."

Axel chuckled again.

"I'm restin' just fine no matter which direction the wind blows…it is good ta be home, though," he said.

"Now ya back in time ta get all dressed up in them damn monkey suits Mi-chonne picked out for us ta wear ta her damn weddin'…" Merle said, drawing out Michonne's name and glancing at her as he said it.

"Looking forward to that too," Axel said. "Ain't never been in a weddin'…"

Now it was Michonne's turn to laugh.

"Merle's the best man," she said. "It's bound to be the social event of the season…"


	11. Chapter 10: Cuttin' Up And Quiet Moments

**AN: Here you go…another little chapter…second part is a little steamy.**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Carol pulled her car into one of the many empty parking spots in the parking lot in front of the dime store in town.

"Check engine light is on again," she grumbled.

Andrea leaned from her spot to examine the little glowing light and then shrugged.

"Tell Daryl to disconnect it," Andrea said. She chuckled lightly. "Over half the lights in the dash of my Pontiac have been disconnected because they piss me off…staring at me all the damn time just because they were installed by some dimwad who didn't know what he was doing."

Carol chuckled and switched off the car.

There was nothing wrong with her car…or nothing really to speak of. Daryl had checked it over…Merle had checked it over…T-Dog had checked it over…and now that Axel was back, she was thinking of asking him to check it over even though the mechanic at the small shop where she got her oil changed for five bucks had checked it over and declared there wasn't a thing wrong with it.

In fact, the only thing wrong with the stupid car was that it had a short in the dash that made random lights come on and off as they wished, often sending her into a state of panic that she was going to break down somewhere with Eliza Jo and be forced to walk several miles to find a phone that would allow her to call one of the many knights in shining pieces of shit to rescue her from her own piece breaking down.

Carol opened the car door and got out at the same time that Andrea did. Andrea sauntered away from the car, kicking loose gravel through the parking lot, and lit a cigarette to entertain herself with while Carol fumbled with the buckles to free Eliza Jo, who was thrilled to see her appear in the back seat so suddenly, from the confines of her car seat.

Her offspring freed and clutched against her chest, Carol wrestled the diaper bag out and decided she didn't feel like dealing with the stroller. She bumped the car door shut with her hip and walked toward Andrea, picking up her friend in their trip toward the sidewalk so they could head to Main Street.

They were having a meeting, so to speak, at the salon. It was finally finished, except for just a few minor touches here and there, and Jacqui would be opening for business within a couple of weeks. Everyone was going to be there, the men having put in their entire Saturday so far to get it to this point, and Michonne was bringing lunch by so they could have a picnic in their soon to be place of business.

Jacqui had already declared that she would open the salon, begin to take in customers, and Andrea and Carol would join her as soon as they possibly could. They had reasoned that between the three of them they could handle any of the areas that were more difficult for Andrea…just until she was able to put in a full day's work without straining too much.

As they walked slowly along the sidewalk, Carol felt the churning in her stomach that was a familiar mix of excitement and nerves.

The salon was a thrilling prospect for all of them and Jacqui had put a lot of money into it. T-Dog, Daryl, Merle, and Tyreese had all put a lot of time into it. And if it worked out well, and if their clientele turned out to be anything but disappointing, it could mean an entirely different kind of life for all of them.

And that was where the nervous feeling stemmed from. Jacqui was all in…done with her certificate, ready to get started, determined to paddle as hard as she could to keep the place afloat while she waited for her companions.

Carol and Andrea were supposed to be dropping down their hours at other jobs and focusing all their attention on doing the accelerated versions of their courses to get their certification in record time…each agreeing to make due with a little less income for the time being in hopes of the great pay off later.

But Carol couldn't help but fear, as she always did, that something would go wrong or they wouldn't have the customers that they needed. She feared that the three of them wouldn't have the ability to keep the salon running, less likely to make it turn a profit and really be something.

But she kept those concerns to herself. Andrea's enthusiasm, despite the fact that she'd basically had her therapy turned completely into something to prepare her to tackle hours a day doing hair and was suffering some for it, was contagious…and Carol didn't want to take that from her.

It seemed that in Andrea's mind she could simply work hard enough and be determined enough to get the salon going that she could run the entire business herself…and Carol wasn't so sure that the enthusiasm wouldn't pay off. She knew, like in most situations, that her concern was only the result of an overactive imagination given to often picturing the worst case scenarios.

The outside of the building remained fairly unchanged from what it had been before. It had been revamped with new paint and a good pressure washing, but it was still the same old building on Main Street that blended in with the other buildings. They'd left it that way so that no one in Sweet Junction could raise a stink about it messing up the "old time Southern charm" of the town like they had when the owners of the Squeaky Clean Car Wash had done a complete overhaul on their building and introduced something so modern to the town that it stuck out and pissed off everyone over the age of fifty.

The sign for the building, the one that had declared it once to be a music store, was removed now, but nothing hung in its place. They hadn't decided on a name yet. Things had been tossed around, but nothing really stuck for any of them…there was nothing that screamed that it was perfect.

They wanted something that obviously labelled the place as a hair salon…and they wanted something spunky and original…but nothing had tickled their fancy.

They'd thrown around Sweet Designs…Main Designs…and even some things as corny as Hair Perfect…but nothing had been right.

Still, Carol knew that Andrea had an idea she was sitting on now…one she'd called Carol in the middle of the night to tell her…and Carol thought that Jacqui would love it when she heard it. And as they started up the steps into the building, Andrea holding the door open for Carol as she went, Carol could see Andrea beaming with pride over the great reveal of the name to come…a pride that almost equaled that of knowing they were stepping into what would be their very own business.

The inside of the building was completely changed and Carol was taken aback by it. Jacqui had purchased the space, and she'd also purchased the space behind it, which was actually only the continuation of the same building, but split off by a wall for many years to make it into two small…and luckily failed businesses.

The wall had come down…and the place had been turned into something of a dream following Jacqui's vision.

She'd wanted it to have the feeling of an old time barber shop, but revamped…and that's exactly what it had. It was almost cozy…and it was friendly from the start. Carol looked around, wide eyed, unable to believe the massive transformation that had taken place of the space.

Inside, Jacqui waited with everyone else, all smiles and beaming with pride.

"What do you think?" She asked, her voice almost squealing with excitement.

Carol couldn't even speak at first. The nerves she felt outside were dissolving a little. Who wouldn't want to get their hair done here? Even if the women who worked there were amateurs at best…

Before any of them could speak, though, Carol was greeted by Daryl who was wiping his hands off on his pants. He reached his arms out and she passed him Eliza Jo without so much as recognizing the fact that he was going for her. She put the diaper bag down on the floor by her feet, still looking around. Her arms free, Carol walked around the room and touched everything. She trailed her hands over the barber chairs, ran fingertips over the stylish black sinks and their new, shiny fixtures...

"This is amazing," she said finally, her voice coming to her. "It's amazing!"

Carol glanced back and forth between Jacqui and Andrea, both of whom were grinning from ear to ear.

"Now all we need is a name…" Jacqui said. "We can put in an order for the sign, finish up all the inspections, and I'm ready to open for business…"

"I think Andrea might have a name for us," Carol ventured, smiling and nodding her head toward her friend. Jacqui turned with some anticipation and Andrea's grin spread.

"Now it's just dumb…" Andrea said. She blushed. "With all of you looking at me? It's stupid…"

Carol chuckled. They were all looking at Andrea…and perhaps that was a little daunting when she was going to unveil what Carol was pretty sure would be the name of their little piece of a better life.

"Fine…no one look at Andrea," Carol announced.

Andrea chuckled and covered her face with her hands.

"Cuttin' Up on Main," Andrea said through the muffle of her fingers.

There was silence for a moment as everyone seemed to be processing the name that she'd suggested.

"Oh my God," Jacqui said after a moment. "I love it! It's perfect!"

Carol chuckled then, realizing she'd been holding her breath.

"Cuttin' Up on Main! That's great!" Jacqui said again.

Carol stepped forward then, introducing the hug between them all, none of them even caring to try to contain their excitement at the moment nor act like responsible adults. This was happening. It was going to take a little hard work and a lot of want to on the parts of them all, but it was happening.

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Carol was almost surprised at herself and at how nervous she felt while she was in the bathroom, getting ready for bed and Daryl was putting Eliza Jo down in the nursery.

A good appointment with her doctor had cleared them for active duty, as they jokingly called it. Nearly eight weeks had passed since Eliza Jo's arrival and she was healed and ready to go...

And it wasn't like she'd never been with Daryl before, and it wasn't like she was a blushing virgin and this was a first time for anything for her, but still Carol lingered in the bathroom and talked to herself, thoughts running through her mind, to calm herself about the night.

Daryl had come very close to dancing around the living room when she'd told him, just as he got home from work, that her appointment had gone well. He'd been extra attentive to her needs and Eliza Jo's needs all evening, including washing the dishes without her even hinting at it and volunteering, though she knew he often felt like a failure if she cried during it, to bathe the baby so she'd sleep better when she was put down.

He was excited. He declared, outright, that he felt like he was "getting Carol back," and that made her worry all the more.

She was nervous that she might have changed…she was nervous that having Eliza Jo might have made her something different to Daryl…and might disappoint him when he realized that the Carol he remembered before the baby came was gone…and now she was what he was stuck with.

And the very thought of him being disappointed with her, of him wanting something different, made Carol's stomach churn and heart pound.

She'd thought of trying to make the night special even…thought that maybe if she did something or wore something special, he might find her more appealing.

But Daryl didn't like when she wore too much make up…and he didn't like when she wore clothes that weren't her everyday clothes. He didn't even like when she switched perfumes. Daryl was a man who liked things to be as they'd always been. He liked things to be comfortable and familiar…and that made her even more panicked that he might find that she wasn't what he remembered her to be.

The three light taps on the door made Carol jump a little from her position sitting on the edge of the bathtub and hiding away with her worry.

"Ya OK?" Daryl called through the door. "'Liza Jo…she's sleepin' now…but'cha know that ain't gonna last…"

It was true…it wouldn't last. Even bathed, lotioned, changed, fed, and rocked…everything honed to absolute perfection…and they wouldn't get more than four hours sleep out of Eliza Jo in the first round. Most of the time she hovered between two and three hours of sleep before her first demands for nighttime attention…and on the worst nights, she barely made it an hour. There was no telling, either, what kind of a night it was going to be until the first time they heard their ear piercing alarm ringing through the house and the baby monitor simultaneously and checked the glowing numbers on the clock.

Carol swallowed, pushing back the nerves and everything else rising in her throat. She couldn't hide from Daryl forever in the bathroom…and with as anxious as he'd been lately, he might take the door of the hinges if he thought that was her plan.

Carol got up, her heart still pounding and her stomach fluttering, her hands shaking slightly as though she were going to face a fire breathing dragon instead of the man she loved most in the world.

She clicked open the bathroom door and revealed Daryl, standing there, his face surely having been pressed almost into the crack, his body resting on the door jamb loosely.

He smiled at her…the crooked smile that he always gave her when he was thinking of things that embarrassed him, even now. The slight warm pink ran over his face.

"There ya is…thought I was gonna have ta come in an' rescue ya," Daryl said.

Carol felt some of her nerves dissolving a little and she smiled back, his expression being hard to avoid catching.

Carol sucked in a breath as a last ditch effort to steady her nerves.

"I love you…" she said.

Daryl's smile broadened.

"Good damn thing, too," he said. "'Cause I weren't gonna let'cha go no way…"

Carol sucked in another breath and Daryl's smile dropped slightly and his brows furrowed.

"Somethin' the matter?" He asked.

Carol shook her head slightly and headed for the bed, barely bathed in the light of the bathroom where they left the door open, as they often did at night if they weren't sleeping immediately.

Daryl had moved Lincoln's steps away from the bed, lest they be disturbed in the time they were stealing from themselves while their daughter slept. He'd already pulled back the covers and on the bed he'd put a bottle of the massage oil that they had left over still from some of the impressive gift bag Michonne had given them when they got married. Beside it he'd put a box of condoms.

Carol's heart flipped a little at her nerves, but she couldn't help but smile too. Daryl was not a subtle man either.

"I guess I don't have to ask if you're ready," Carol said softly.

Daryl chuckled and went around the bed, crawling up on his side and patting the cover on her side when she lingered away from the edge for longer than he thought was appropriate.

Carol chuckled again.

"Ya scared a' me?" Daryl asked with a chuckle. "Hell…I ain't gon' jump ya…even got'cha some a' that smelly shit so I can rub ya back for ya like ya like…"

Carol shook her head. She suddenly felt foolish for having worried in the first place, even though some of it was still there, having not dissolved entirely.

"You don't want a massage?" She teased, tipping her head to the side.

Daryl patted the bed again and grinned.

"Maybe later," he said. "I'll put it on the schedule for another break between rockin' 'Liza Jo's ass right back ta the sleep she come from…now ya comin'?"

Carol decided to save him the time that his enthusiasm might cost him and pulled the t shirt she was wearing over her head. Daryl's eyes widened a little, and he chewed at his thumb, moving the bottle of oil and the box of condoms beside him as though he didn't think there was enough room on her side of the bed to be agreeable to her in the moment. She smiled, biting her lip at him, and slipped out of her panties, stepping out of them and picking everything up to toss it at the foot of the bed so Lincoln didn't get it when he woke up from his Milk Bone induced slumber and decided to chew up everything they owned out of annoyance at his relocated staircase.

Carol eased onto the bed and Daryl leaned over, kissing her gently, but fully, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

Daryl's hands trailed gently over her body as they kissed, holding it for longer than they had in some time. Carol felt her pulse and her breathing picking up as she sunk into the kiss, leaning over into Daryl with an enthusiasm she hadn't expected to have.

By the time that Daryl broke the kiss, Carol was turned on enough to whimper at the mournful loss of his lips against hers and the taste of his tongue in her mouth. She swallowed and looked at him. From his face alone, she could tell that he was turned on, not that she doubted he may have been turned on before they even started.

Daryl swallowed loudly and visibly before nodding his head at her.

"Lay down," he commanded.

Carol smiled, feeling her cheeks run a little hot, and nodded back at him, rolling over and lying on her stomach, pulling her arms up under her head.

She lie there a moment, her heart pounding and her breathing still unsettled, while she heard him fumbling around with the bottle and then she felt his warm hands, slightly scratchy despite the dripping amount of lilac scented oil, rub her back to spread out the quickly warmed oil and then settle to squeeze the muscles of her shoulders.

Carol moaned out, not realizing until Daryl squeezed how much tension was built up in her muscles. She heard him chuckle slightly, but he didn't stop his work.

He worked her muscles gently, but with enough force reach the built up stores of stress and tension that she'd kept a good hold on. Carol closed her eyes against the feeling, torn simultaneously between the throbbing that it brought about between her legs and the heavy and relaxed feeling of wanting sleep that it gave her. Her brain, it seemed, had decided that either could be something she would be pleased with, and it was torn between both sides of the battle.

Carol almost dozed, once or twice, while Daryl worked at her back. He ventured off from his location and massaged down her arms and she loosely let him have them, her head sinking into the mattress. She handed herself over to him like a rag doll.

And he worked then down her thighs, skipping entirely the throbbing area between them, and down her calves and to her feet. Slowly and methodically he went and Carol felt her eyes rolling back in her head at the sheer relief of aches and pains she didn't know she had.

Daryl wasn't a masseuse…and maybe his technique would have been frowned upon by anyone knowing anything about the true art of massage, but by the time that he finished, Carol thought that it was the most relaxed she'd ever been. She almost hated, honestly, to move and let anything spoil it.

Until she felt Daryl slip his hand between her thighs and rub gently there, a finger dipping into her and stroking her for a second before another sought out her clit and made her raise off the mattress without even thinking about it, her breath picking up.

"Roll on over here…" Daryl said, his voice coming out low and throaty as it often did.

Carol moaned a little against using muscles that had been reduced to jello, but she rolled anyway, into the center of the bed, and found Daryl over her. He brought his lips down to hers, kissing her deeply again as his hands massaged her breasts gently.

Daryl backed off of her and lost his own underwear to the foot of the bed where they'd search for them in the morning and then he came over her again, dipping his head and lightly trailing his tongue over her nipple so that she shivered before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently.

Carol groaned at him and bucked up into him, his hand coming back to tease her.

He taunted her a little longer before he finally broke away again, slipping on one of the condoms. Then she let herself remain limp from the relaxation of the massage as he rearranged her to his liking and entered her slowly and smoothly, bringing his lips back to hers as he sunk into her and found the position that most suited him.

The need for words was lost between them as Daryl set a slow but steady pace for them both. They fell into their rhythm while hands and mouths searched out familiar territories that had been too long ignored. The smell of sweat and lilac and the musk of sex filled Carol's nostrils and her body registered pleasures that she'd forgot she was even capable of feeling.

If having Eliza Jo had changed her body, in her opinion it had changed it for the better…and judging from the moans and grunts that Daryl gave, the fact that he growled her name into her ear even as he came, kissing the side of her neck while she was still sinking down from her orgasm, he might have though the same thing.

When they were done, and Daryl had finally settled beside her, both of them still on top of the pulled back cover, both of them operating under breathing that was only barely beginning to return to normal, Carol couldn't help but sigh to herself.

"Alright," Daryl asked, his voice still gravelly like before. He kissed her shoulder gently.

"Wonderful…" Carol said, her voice trailing off a little. "I was worried that you might not like it…"

Daryl raised up slightly, furrowing his brow.

"What?" He asked.

Carol reached and brought her hand up, running her fingertip gently over Daryl's lips. She shrugged lightly.

"I didn't know if it might be different…if you might not like me…" Carol said.

Daryl stayed there a moment, looking at her, and then he lowered his head, kissing her again.

"Mmm…" he hummed when their lips broke apart. "Still damn near perfect ta me…" he said.

Carol smiled softly, feeling an ache in the back of her throat brought on by the words.

"You're not so bad yourself," she said, forcing a broader smile and raising an eyebrow at him.

In response, Daryl chuckled and groaned as he pulled himself up, lifting her legs and pulling the blanket out from under them. Without another word he got up and flipped the bathroom light off and came back to bed, slipping under the cover. He took his customary place beside her and Carol sunk into him when his arm came around her and pulled her into the position he desired.

"I love ya, woman…just like ya is…however the hell that might be," Daryl said.

Carol smiled to herself, knowing he wouldn't be able to see her. She found his hand and brought it to his mouth, planting a few soft kisses against his fingertips.

"I love you too, Daryl," Carol said. "Always…"

Daryl chuckled and brought his lips back to her shoulder, humming lightly as he pulled them away.

"Guess we got a lotta shit in common then…" he responded, his teasing tone of voice making Carol chuckle lightly before she sighed involuntarily at the comfort of him settling in, his body warm against hers.


	12. Chapter 11: A Lap Dance Among Friends

**AN: Hi everyone! A little chapter for you here. This one's kind of a funny/fun one. A bachelorette party (since we have a long anticipated wedding coming up soon) starring our three leading ladies. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! **

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Michonne's bachelorette party was probably not anything like the typical bachelorette party might be. She wasn't exactly twenty something and celebrating her last real hoorah as a single woman. She'd been there and she'd done that before…and it had ended badly for her.

Still, it involved as much wine as she wanted to drink and as much wine as Andrea dared to drink. Carol was sucking down sweet tea instead, not wanting to worry about her milk…that was a difference in the bachelorette parties of old and the one that was taking place now…there weren't small infants at the wild bachelorette parties of the past that had some chance of showing up somewhere on some documentary about how proper young ladies should act.

The party was a sleepover, and though the wedding was actually a week away, it was as much of a bachelorette party as was going to take place since Michonne's parents were watching the girls and they'd actually been the ones to put the date into place.

Tyreese was somewhere…hopefully safe…in Sweet Junction or the surrounding area with Daryl and Merle. It really was his last big hoorah, so Michonne hoped that he was living it up and he was having the kind of bachelor party that every man dreamed of...though she feared what kind of a stripper they'd found at some hole in the wall place just far enough away not to be recognized by the woman at the A and P some fine day.

He would end up, by the end of the night, sleeping at Merle's house with the brothers…and with the dogs that were keeping them company for the night. He'd probably wake up with a lot more of a story to tell and much more powerful headache than Michonne would.

Michonne was enjoying herself, though. Eliza Jo had entertained them all and finally conked herself out in the little pack and play beside the couch, and now they were just being girls. It was nice…the kind of night that one wishes they did more often instead of only for special occasions like weddings.

"OK…OK…so you're going to the beach…are you going to leave the hotel?" Andrea asked, wagging her eyebrows at Michonne.

Judging from the gifts they'd given her, her "wedding shower" and "bachelorette party" being rolled into one since it really seemed unfitting to have either with a second marriage, both Carol and Andrea thought that Michonne would not be leaving the hotel during their two day vacation to a nice little Bed and Breakfast in Charleston.

"It's a Bed and Breakfast," Michonne said, ignoring the snickers and the lighthearted punch that Carol shared with Andrea over calling the place a hotel. "And yes, we'll be going out. Charleston's a beautiful city…there's a lot to see there. We don't want to waste our time…"

Andrea chuckled, her cheeks having taken on a rosy glow from the wine that she'd been drinking since before Michonne even arrived.

"It's not wasting your time if you're doing it right," she teased.

Michonne chuckled and shook her head at Andrea. Carol blushed red at the comment, and Michonne thought it was funny that even though she was the one with a fresh faced baby in the house, she was the most easily embarrassed by the talk that rolled so easily from Andrea's tongue, especially when it was well lubricated.

"Are you going to give him a lap dance?" Andrea asked. A broad smile laced with mischief spread across her face.

Michonne chuckled again and shook her head.

"No! I'm not giving him a lap dance," Michonne responded. "I don't do things like that…"

"Did you give Merle a lap dance for your honeymoon?" Carol asked.

Andrea looked at Carol a moment, the smile fading slightly. Then she renewed it, but shook her head slightly.

"No…because of the…" she gestured her hand toward her shoulder. She shrugged then and drank down the rest of her wine, hitting her feet with more bounce than before and making her way to the dining room table where there were more open wine bottles waiting for them to drink than they could have finished if they'd invited Guns and Roses to the bachelorette party.

Carol frowned and glanced at Michonne as though she were apologizing for bringing the shooting up…Michonne shook her head gently at Carol. Andrea would do better if they didn't talk about it. She was at risk, having drank so much, of her emotions being all over the place, and it was better to keep her talking about silly stuff, no matter what it was, than to get into anything that might spur her into a negative direction.

"Have you given lap dances before?" Michonne asked, ignoring the earlier statement.

Andrea, leaning against the table and sucking down some wine so she could refill her glass before ever committing to coming back to the living room, nodded, dribbling some of the wine down her chin and wiping it with her hand.

"Oh yeah…lots," she said. "Hell…I worked for a little while as a stripper…out there at that place on the highway…you know the one?"

"The one that's always got a sign up saying they're hiring beautiful women?" Carol asked.

Andrea chuckled and nodded her head.

"That's the one…" she said, swallowing down some more wine. "Except their not as picky as you might think. Their sign ought to say they're hiring live ones…that's about all they asked my ass when I walked in…ya breathin'?"

Both Carol and Michonne chuckled at the picture Andrea's tone of voice painted of the place.

"But you're a beautiful woman," Michonne said.

"Mmm…and a damn fine lap dancer," Andrea said. "Come on…if you're not doing that then spill…what other little dirty things do you have in mind? You've got to make this a night to remember…"

Michonne frowned and shook her head.

"It's just a normal night, Andrea, that's all…just me and Tyreese…together. I don't owe you any details. Besides, it's not like you're handing out details about you and Merle…" Michonne teased.

Andrea snorted.

"Do you really want details?" Andrea asked. "Because…well…I can tell you that I give lap dances…and I do all kinds of things to keep things lively. I'm a no holds barred kinda gal. Anything goes."

"Anything goes, huh?" Michonne asked, raising an eyebrow at Andrea.

A quick glance at Carol spoke clearly of the fact that she was trying to decide if she was horrified or interested and she wasn't sold either way. She had her hand up, partially covering her face, and her cheeks were pink…but at the same time she looked like she was enjoying it.

Andrea nodded, sashaying in a drunken manner toward Michonne with her own glass and second glass that she'd filled to force Michonne to drink more wine than the glass she had resting on the floor with a swallow still trapped in the bottom of it.

"Anything," Andrea said. She handed the glass to Michonne. "Drink up…then you're going to learn how to do a lap dance…"

Michonne accepted the glass, but chuckled at Andrea's dare that she would be learning lap dancing techniques.

"I don't think so…" Michonne said.

Andrea's smile covered her face and she raised her eyebrows, nodding yes to Michonne.

"Either you learn to lap dance…and I have my ways of finding out if you went through with it…or I will put every bit of my effort in therapy this week into becoming limber enough to perform the world's best lap dance…and I'll do it…at your reception…in front of all your hoity toity friends," Andrea said, tipping her head to the side.

Michonne raised her own eyebrows back with a counter attack on the woman.

"If I don't do it, the wedding will be over…and you won't be able to embarrass yourself at my reception…" Michonne countered.

Andrea laughed.

"I can't be embarrassed," she said, her voice dropping a little. She sucked her teeth. "Not anymore…but at least you'd do it tonight…"

Michonne sighed and drank down half the glass of wine that Andrea had offered her. Why not, right? It was her party…she might as well have something to remember out of it…or something to forget.

Michonne stood up from the couch she was sitting on, the small one that Andrea had spent so much of her time recovering on after what they were all calling "the accident" to keep from calling it what it really was, and she walked over to the kitchen bar and put the glass there, along with the almost empty one she'd plucked from the floor.

"Alright…let's go…put your money where your mouth is," Michonne teased Andrea. "Teach me to lap dance since you're so good at it."

"Are you both serious right now?" Carol asked, piping up finally from her position.

"Sure…why not?" Michonne asked, shrugging. Now that she was committed to this…she was committed. She might not take any of the learned skills out of the house…or away from this night in any way…but why not?

Andrea nearly hopped in place at the excitement of the entire thing.

"Music?" She asked, glancing at Carol who had now assumed the look of a deer caught in the middle of four lanes with traffic coming on both sides.

"Eliza Jo is sleeping…" she said.

"We don't need it loud enough to wake the neighborhood…" Andrea said, her tone of voice edging on sarcasm. "Just something a little…peppy…something to move to…"

Carol sighed, not looking nearly as sold on the whole plan as everyone else in the room.

"You can turn the television on…there are some music stations on there…but not too loud…" Carol said.

Andrea smiled and drained her wine glass, putting it on the bar near Michonne's momentarily ignored glasses.

"I'll find something on…Mich…we need one of the dining room chairs in here…if you please," Andrea said, going over to entertain herself with the television remote that she almost seemed unable to make out clearly in her current state.

Michonne went and got one of the requested chairs, bringing it into the living room and putting it down as the low hum of the chosen music drifted through the living room. Carol leaned over, checking the baby, but the baby was much less concerned with what was happening than even her mother was.

"I'm going to put her in the nursery," Carol said. "Really…I don't want us to wake her up…"

"You're going to wake her up moving her," Michonne warned. "I always learned you let babies sleep where they lie. She's been fine so far…she's sleeping right through us…our voices are probably kind of soothing."

Carol, though, ignored Michonne and carefully gathered the baby up. For a moment no one moved a muscle as Carol shifted her around. Eliza Jo stirred slightly, but she was truly down for the count at the moment and she sunk into Carol quickly, falling back asleep.

Carol took the baby to the nursery while Michonne and Andrea awaited her return, neither one moving for fear that their long distance movement might somehow rile the infant.

But when Carol came back, quickly making her way back to the couch and sinking down, her legs folded under her, she gave them the all clear to continue...at least until the monitor she brought with her signaled that the fun, at least for her, had to end for a bit.

Andrea smiled, triumphant over the television's music selection and pleased with the fact that everything was going to go on according to her plan, and walked toward Carol, stretching out her arm.

"Come on…come here…" she said, waving her fingers at Carol to ask the woman to take her hand.

Carol raised an eyebrow at her and then shook her head.

"Uh uh…nooo…this is between the two of you," Carol said. "I'm just hosting this little fiasco."

Andrea chuckled.

"Can't lap dance without an audience," she teased. "You're the lucky winner of the night…come on…it won't hurt even one little bit…"

Carol frowned and shot a look at Michonne who was unable to hide her smile at the situation. Honestly, Carol's squirming was even more amusing that the prospect of the dance itself or the fact that this slumber party was headed on some kind of slippery slope into becoming something that bad high school slumber parties were rumored to be. If it continued along this path, it wouldn't be surprising if they all ended up covered in baby oil and feathers from their half-naked pillow fight that was sure to follow the festivities.

When Michonne didn't offer her any support, Carol sighed and took Andrea's hand, unfolding her legs and getting up from the couch. Andrea guided her toward the newly placed living room chair, stopping a moment to pull her toward her with the hand that she held and sway as though they were slow dancing, and then she smiled and pushed Carol toward the chair.

Michonne leaned back against the wall, watching the whole scene unfold.

"Are you sure you're OK to do this…" Michonne asked Andrea as the blonde squirmed her way out of her pajama pants without explanation.

"Yeah…" Andrea responded. "I'm not going to get crazy…Carol couldn't handle it and it's your first time out…so we'll keep it really basic and really easy going."

Michonne crossed her arms across her chest and nodded at Andrea, accepting her plan for how to make the particular dance work. Carol, now sitting in the chair, kept casting glances at Michonne like she was trying to find out if this was what she had in mind for a bachelorette party. It wasn't what she'd had in mind…but it was certainly starting to be more fun than what she'd thought it might be.

"No pants?" Carol asked Andrea, now smiling and beginning to loosen up a little.

"Mmmm…can't move in those," Andrea said. She looked down at her bare legs. "Besides…I like these underwear and I shaved…might as well show it off."

Carol chuckled and her face blushed beet red.

"Now…" Andrea said, turning her attention to Michonne and starting to sway a little, "you're going to improvise…and probably use your arms more than I am…but I've kind of got a little Frankenstein kink to my life right now…"

Michonne chuckled and nodded her head. She watched as Andrea went through, piece by piece, the basic steps to what she wanted to remember. How to move, what to pay attention to…how much touch was good, how much was too much…or at least too much until you were ready for it to go a lot farther than the dance.

Carol was a good sport about the whole thing. She loosened up not long after Andrea found her rhythm and started to catcall the woman and cheer her on, keeping her howling at a much lower volume than would be typical for such an act so as to not let it drift across the house and into the nursery, as though she were actually enjoying it.

Michonne giggled to herself, all of them seeming like teenagers again, experimenting with something that was so taboo and so off limits…doing something that they weren't supposed to do, but really wasn't going to cause any harm to anyone.

And the more that it went on, Andrea dropping little hints and bits of instruction, the more than Michonne started to loosen up and get into things. She joined Andrea at first, mimicking some of her actions, and then she took her place.

Before too long had passed, it became aware that Carol was starting to get over her embarrassment…and she finally protested being, as she put it, the monkey in the middle. Michonne cheered, walking to the bar and drinking down half her glass of wine in a hurry to quench the slight thirst she'd built up, when Carol got up from the chair and started, almost doubled over with laugher despite her sobriety, to copy some of the movements that Andrea had shown her.

"Alright Michonne," Andrea teased, panting a little from the efforts it was clear that she hadn't put forth in some time. "Down…it's your bachelorette party…you get a dance."

Michonne thought about protesting at first…but then she smiled and shrugged. She went to the table, fixing herself some more wine, and watched as Andrea did the same, draining a glass in the amount of time that it took Michonne to get through half.

Thirst quenched, at least for the time being, Michonne teasingly strutted to the chair, sitting down. Fed on the same adrenaline that now had Andrea and Carol both laughing…Carol a little more devishly than was typical for her, Michonne kicked back in the chair and waved her hands out to the side as though she were the queen commanding her vassals.

"Dance for me, ladies," she said, her voice breaking a little with laughter as she finished the mock command.

Both of them waited, the most current song on the poor quality music television station fading out some, and when it started, together the two enacted a rather clumsy dance, stunted here and there by laughter and by the fact that both of them, working either side of the chair at any given moment, kept colliding because of their poorly choreographed spontaneity.

Michonne playfully cat called both of them, laughing enough that she lamented the aching of her ab muscles between her declarations of how sexy they both were, and enjoyed the act that was taking place.

They were all three haulted, though, instantly when the rattle of keys made them all freeze. Immediately afterward, the cracking sound of the seal of the door threw them into a panic as Daryl slung the door open.

"Tyreese forgot his fuckin' toothbrush an' he an' Merle's too damn drunk for they own damn good…we got another one? I ain't aimin' ta drive my ass clear 'cross Sweet Junction just ta get it…" Daryl said as he came in the door, focused on what he was thinking about for the moment and missing, for a second, the confusion of his living room where he probably expected to find the women sitting calmly, sipping wine, and telling stories about something as tame as garden parties or what curtains they were considering hanging.

And in the confusion, Carol had somehow decided her only defense against any of it was to throw herself into Michonne's lap, leaving Andrea, bare legged, standing, leaning over them, her mouth open.

Daryl looked at them, pausing a moment and looking around as though he doubted he was in the right house…or the right universe even…and as though he doubted that he knew any of the three women.

All three women smiled at him, trying to act as nonchalant as possible despite the looks of the situation. Daryl stared at them, mouth slightly open for the moment, and they stared back at him, all their mouths having drifted into forming some sort of smile.

"Damn…" Daryl muttered finally. "I was at the wrong fuckin' party…"


End file.
